THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 
DR.  ROY  VAN  WART 


Nervous  and  Mental  Disease  Monograph  Series  No.  19 


The  Theory  of  Psychoanalysis 


By 

C.  Q.  JUNG 

of  Zurich 


Nervous  and  Mental  Disease  Publishing  Co. 

New  York 
1915 


Nervous  and  Mental  Disease  Monograph  Series 

Editors 

SMITH  ELY  JBLLIFFE,  M.D. 
WM.  A.  WHITE,  M.D. 

No.  1.    Outlines  of  Psychiatry.    (Fourth  Edition,  1913.)  Price,  $3.00 

'By  WM.  A.  WHITE,  M.D. 

No.  2.    S+udies  in  Paranoia.     (Out  of  Print.) 

No.  3.    Psychology  of  Dementia  Praecox.     (Out  of  Print.) 

No.  4.    Selected  Papers  on  Hysteria  and  Other  Psycho- 
neuroses.     (Second  Edition,  1912.)    Price,  $2.50 
By  PROF.  SIGMUND  FREUD,  M.D 

No.  5.     The  Wassermann  Serum  Reaction  in  Psychiatry.  Price,  $2.00 

By  FELIX  PLAUT,  M.D. 

No.  6.    Epidemic  Poliomyelitis.        (Out  of  Print.) 

No.  7.    Three  Contributions  to  Sexual  Theory Price,  $2.00 

By  PROF.  SIGMUND  FREUD 

No.  8.    Mental  Mechanisms,     (Out  of  Print.)    - 

.No.  9.     Studies  in  Psychiatry .  .  .Price,  $2.00 

By  Members  of  the  Hew  York  Psychiatrical  Society 

No.  30.  Methods  of  Mental  Examination.     (Out  of  Print.) 

No.  11.  The  Theory  of  Schizophrenic  Negativism Price,  $  .60 

By  PROFESSOR  R.  BLEULER 

No.  12.  Cerebellar  Functions Price,  $3.00 

By  DR.  ANDRE-THOMAS 

No.r'  13.  History  of  the  Prison  Psychoses Price,  $1.25 

By  DRS.  P.  NITSCHE  and  K.  WILMAHNS 

No.  14.  General  Paresis Price,  $3.00 

By  PROF.  E.  KRAEPELIN 

No.  15.  Dreams  and  Myths Price,  $1.00 

By  DR.  KARL  ABRAHAM 

No.  16.  Poliomyelitis Price,  $3.00 

DR.  I.  WICKMAHN 

No.  17.  Freud's  Theories  of  the  Neuroses     Price,  $?.00 

DR.  E.  HITSCHMANN 

No.  18.  The  Myth  of  the  Birth  of  the  Hero Price,  $1.00 

By  DR.  OTTO  RANK 

No.  19.  The  Theory  of  Psychoanalysis Price,  $1.50 

By  Dr.  C.  G.  JUNG 


Address  all  communications  to  JOURNAL  OF  NERVOUS  AND  MENTAL  DISEASE, 
64  West  Fifty-Sixth  Street,  New  York. 


NERVOUS  AND  MENTAL  DISEASE  MONOGRAPH 
SERIES,  No.  19 


The  Theory  of  Psychoanalysis 


BY 

DR.  C.  G.  JUNG 

of  Zurich 


NEW  YORK 

THE  JOURNAL  OF  NERVOUS  AND  MENTAL  DISEASE 
PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


NERVOUS   AND  MENTAL   DISEASE 
MONOGRAPH   SERIES 

Edited  by 
Drs.  SUITE  ELY  JELLIFFE  and  WM.  A.  WHITE 

Numbers  Issued 

1.  Outlines  of  Psychiatry.    (4th  Edition.)     $3.00. 

By  Dr.  William  A.  White. 

2.  Studies  in  Paranoia. 

By  Drs.  N.  Gierlich  and  M.  Friedman. 

3.  The  Psychology  of  Dementia  Praecox.    (Out  of  Print). 

By  Dr.  C.  G  Jung. 

4.  Selected  Papers  on  Hysteria  and  other  Paychoneuroses 

(2d  Edition.)     $2.50.    By  Prof .  Sigmund  Freud' 

5.  TheWassennannSerumDiagnosis  in  Psychiatry.  $2.00. 

By  Dr.  Felix  Plant. 

6.  Epidemic  Poliomyelitis.  New  York,  1907.  (Outof  Print). 

7.  Three  Contributions  to  Sexual  Theory.    $2.00. 

By  Prof.  Sigmund  Freud. 

8.  Mental  Mechanisms.    $2.00.    By  Dr.  Wm.  A.  White. 

9.  Studies  in  Psychiatry.    $2.00. 

New  York  Psychiatrical  Society. 

10.  Handbook  of  Mental  Examination  Methods.    $2.00. 

By  Shepherd  Ivory  Franz: 
n.  The  Theory  of  Schizophrenic  Negativism.    $0.60. 

By  Professor  E.  Blenlet. 

12.  Cerebellar  Functions.    $3.00. 

By  Dr.  Andre-Thomas. 

13.  History  of  Prison  Psychoses.    $1.25. 

By  Drs.  P.  Nitsche  and  K.  Wilmanns. 

14.  General  Paresis.    $3.00.  By  Prof.  E.  Kraepelin. 

15.  Dreams  and  Myths.    $1.00.        By  Dr.  Karl  Abraham. 

16.  Poliomyelitis.    $3.00.  Dr.  I.  Wickmann. 

17.  Freud's  Theories  of  the  Neuroses.    $2.00. 

Dr.  E.  Hitschmann. 

18.  The  Myth  of  the  Birtlf  of  the  Hero.    $1.00. 

Dr.  Otto  Rank 

19.  The  Theory  of  Psychoanalysis.    $1.50. 

Dr.  C.  G.  Jung. 


Copyright,  1915,  by 

THE  JOURNAL  OF  NERVOUS  AND  MENTAL  DISEASE 
PUBLISHING  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK 


PRESS  OF 
THE  NEW  ERA  PRINTING  COMPANY 


Lf-bO 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTION i 

CHAPTER  I 
CONSIDERATION  OF  EARLY  HYPOTHESES 4 

CHAPTER  II 
THE  INFANTILE  SEXUALITY 17 

CHAPTER  III 
THE  CONCEPTION  OF  LIBIDO 27 

CHAPTER  IV 
THE  ETIOLOGICAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  INFANTILE  SEXUALITY  45 

CHAPTER  V 
THE  UNCONSCIOUS 55 

CHAPTER  VI 
THE  DREAM   60 

CHAPTER  VII 
THE  CONTENT  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 67 

CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES 72 

CHAPTER  IX 
THE  THERAPEUTICAL  PRINCIPLES  OF  PSYCHOANALYSIS 96 

CHAPTER  X 
SOME  GENERAL  REMARKS  ON  PSYCHOANALYSIS  .  ,   in 


in 


INTRODUCTION 

In  these  lectures  I  have  attempted  to  reconcile  my  practical 
experiences  in  psychoanalysis  with  the  existing  theory,  or  rather, 
with  the  approaches  to  such  a  theory.  Here  is  my  attitude  to- 
wards those  principles  which  my  honored  teacher  Sigmund  Freud 
has  evolved  from  the  experience  of  many  decades.  Since  I  have 
long  been  closely  connected  with  psychoanalysis,  it  will  perhaps 
be  asked  with  astonishment  how  it  is  that  I  am  now  for  the  first 
time  defining  my  theoretical  position.  When,  some  ten  years 
ago,  it  came  home  to  me  what  a  vast  distance  Freud  had  already 
travelled  beyond  the  bounds  of  contemporary  knowledge  of 
psycho-pathological  phenomena,  especially  the  psychology  of  the 
complex  mental  processes,  I  no  longer  felt  myself  in  a  position  to 
exercise  any  real  criticism.  I  did  not  possess  the  sorry  mandarin- 
courage  of  those  people  who — upon  a  basis  of  ignorance  and 
incapacity — consider  themselves  justified  in  "critical "rejections. 
I  thought  one  must  first  work  modestly  for  years  in  such  a  field 
before  one  might  dare  to  criticize.  The  evil  results  of  prema- 
ture and  superficial  criticism  have  certainly  not  been  lacking. 
A  preponderating  number  of  critics  have  attacked  with  as  much 
anger  as  ignorance.  Psychoanalysis  has  flourished  undisturbed 
and  has  not  troubled  itself  one  jot  or  tittle  about  the  unscientific 
chatter  that  has  buzzed  around  it.  As  everyone  knows,  this  tree 
has  waxed  mightily,  and  not  in  one  world  only,  but  alike  in 
Europe  and  in  America.  Official  criticism  participates  in  the 
pitiable  fate  of  Proktophantasmist  and  his  lamentation  in  the 
Walpurgis-night : 

"You  still  are  here?    Nay,  'tis  a  thing  unheard! 
Vanish  at  once !    We've  said  the  enlightening  word." 

Such  criticism  has  omitted  to  take  to  heart  the  truth  that  all 
that  exists  has  sufficient  right  to  its  existence:  no  less  is  it  with 
psychoanalysis. 

We  will  not  fall  into  the  error  of  our  opponents,  nor  ignore 
their  existence  nor  deny  their  right  to  exist.  But  then  this 


2  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

enjoins  upon  ourselves  the  duty  of  applying  a  proper  criticism, 
grounded  upon  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  facts.  To  me  it 
seems  that  psychoanalysis  stands  in  need  of  this  weighing-up 
from  the  inside. 

It  has  been  wrongly  assumed  that  my  attitude  denotes  a 
"split"  in  the  psychoanalytic  movement.  Such  a  schism  can 
only  exist  where  faith  is  concerned.  But  psychoanalysis  deals 
with  knowledge  and  its  ever-changing  formulations.  I  have 
taken  William  James'  pragmatic  rule  as  a  plumb-line:  "You 
must  bring  out  of  each  word  its  practical  cash-value,  set  it  at 
work  within  the  stream  of  your  experience.  It  appears  less  a 
solution,  then,  than  as  a  program  for  more  work  and  more  par- 
ticularly as  an  indication  of  the  ways  in  which  existing  realities 
may  be  changed.  Theories  thus  become  instruments,  not  answers 
to  enigmas,  in  which  we  can  rest.  We  don't  lie  back  upon  them, 
we  move  forward,  and,  on  occasion,  make  nature  over  again  by 
their  aid." 

And  so  my  criticism  has  not  proceeded  from  academic  argu- 
ments, but  from  experiences  which  have  forced  themselves  on 
me  during  ten  years  earnest  work  in  this  sphere.  I  know  that 
my  experience  in  no  wise  approaches  Freud's  quite  extraordinary 
experience  and  insight,  but  none  the  less  it  seems  to  me  that 
certain  of  my  formulations  do  present  the  observed  facts  more 
adequately  than  is  the  case  in  Freud's  method  of  statement.  At 
any  rate  I  have  found,  in  my  teaching,  that  the  conceptions  put 
forward  in  these  lectures  have  afforded  peculiar  aid  in  my  en- 
deavors to  help  my  pupils  to  an  understanding  of  psychoanalysis. 
With  such  experience  I  am  naturally  inclined  to  assent  to  the  view 
of  Mr.  Dooley,  that  witty  humorist  of  the  New  York  Times,  when 
he  says,  defining  pragmatism :  "  Truth  is  truth  '  when  it  works.' " 
I  am  indeed  very  far  from  regarding  a  modest  and  moderate 
criticism  as  a  "  falling  away "  or  a  schism ;  on  the  contrary, 
through  it  I  hope  to  help  on  the  flowering  and  fructification  of 
the  psychoanalytic  movement,  and  to  open  a  path  towards  the 
scientific  treasures  of  psychoanalysis  for  those  who  have  hitherto 
been  unable  to  possess  themselves  of  psychoanalytic  methods, 
whether  through  lack  of  practical  experience  or  through  distaste 
of  the  theoretical  hypothesis. 

For  the  opportunity  to  deliver  these  lectures  I  have  to  thank 


INTRODUCTION  3 

my  friend  Dr.  Smith  Ely  Jelliffe,  of  New  York,  who  kindly  in- 
vited me  to  take  part  in  the  "  Extension  Course "  at  Fordham 
University.  These  lectures  were  given  in  September,  1912,  in 
New  York. 

I  must  here  also  express  my  best  thanks  to  Dr.  Gregory,  of 
Bellevue  Hospital,  for  his  ready  support  of  my  clinical  demon- 
strations. 

For  the  troublesome  work  of  translation  I  am  greatly  indebted 
to  my  assistant,  Miss  M.  Moltzer,  and  to  Mrs.  Edith  Eder  and 
Dr.  Eder  of  London. 

Only  after  the  preparation  of  these  lectures  did  Adler's  book, 
"  Ueber  den  nervosen  Character,"  become  known  to  me,  in  the 
summer  of  1912.  I  recognize  that  he  and  I  have  reached  similar 
conclusions  on  various  points,  but  here  is  not  the  place  to  go  into 
a  more  intimate  discussion  of  the  matter;  that  must  take  place 
elsewhere. 


CHAPTER  I 

CONSIDERATION  OF  EARLY  HYPOTHESES 

It  is  not  an  easy  task  to  speak  about  psychoanalysis  in  these 
days.  I  am  not  thinking,  when  I  say  this,  of  the  fact  that  psycho- 
analysis in  general — it  is  my  earnest  conviction — is  among  the 
most  difficult  scientific  problems  of  the  day.  But  even  when  we 
put  this  cardinal  fact  aside,  we  find  many  serious  difficulties 
which  interfere  with  the  clear  interpretation  of  the  matter.  I 
am  not  capable  of  giving  you  a  complete  doctrine  elaborated  both 
from  the  theoretical  and  the  empirical  standpoint.  Psychoanalysis 
has  not  yet  reached  such  a  point  of  development,  although  a  great 
amount  of  labor  has  been  expended  upon  it.  Neither  can  I  give  you 
a  description  of  its  growth  ab  ovo,  for  you  already  have  in  your 
country,  with  its  great  regard  for  all  the  progress  of  civilization,  a 
considerable  literature  on  the  subject.  This  literature  has  already 
spread  a  general  knowledge  of  psychoanalysis  among  those  who 
have  a  scientific  interest  in  it. 

You  have  had  the  opportunity  of  listening  to  Freud,  the  real 
explorer  and  founder  of  this  method,  who  has  spoken  in  your  own 
country  about  this  theory.  As  for  myself,  I  have  already  had  the 
honor  of  speaking  about  this  work  in  America.  I  have  discussed 
the  experimental  foundation  of  the  theory  of  complexes  and  the 
application  of  psychoanalysis  to  pedagogy. 

It  can  be  easily  understood  that  under  these  circumstances  I 
fear  to  repeat  what  has  already  been  said,  or  published  in  many 
scientific  journals  in  this  country.  A  further  difficulty  lies  in  the 
fact  that  in  very  many  quarters  there  are  already  prevailing  quite 
extraordinary  conceptions  of  our  theory,  conceptions  which  are 
often  absolutely  wrong,  and  unfortunately  wrong  just  in  that 
which  touches  the  very  essence  of  psychoanalysis.  At  times  it 
seems  nearly  impossible  to  grasp  even  the  meaning  of  these  errors, 
and  I  am  constantly  astonished  to  find  any  one  with  a  scientific 
education  ever  arriving  at  ideas  so  divorced  from  all  foundations 
in  fact.  Obviously  it  would  be  of  no  importance  to  cite  examples 


CONSIDERATION  OF  EARLY   HYPOTHESES  5 

of  these  curiosities,  and  it  will  be  more  valuable  to  discuss  here 
those  questions  and  problems  of  psychoanalysis  which  really 
might  provoke  misunderstanding. 

A  CHANGE  IN  THE  THEORY  OF  PSYCHOANALYSIS 

Although  it  has  very  often  been  repeated,  it  seems  to  be  still 
an  unknown  fact  to  many  people,  that  in  these  last  years  the 
theory  of  psychoanalysis  has  changed  considerably.  Those,  for 
instance,  who  have  only  read  the  first  book,  "  Studies  in  Hysteria," 
by  Breuer  and  Freud,  still  believe  that  psychoanalysis  essentially 
consists  in  the  doctrine  that  hysteria,  as  well  as  other  neuroses, 
has  its  root  in  the  so-called  "  traumata,"  or  shocks,  of  earliest  child- 
hood. They  continue  to  condemn  this  theory,  and  have  no  idea 
that  it  is  fifteen  years  since  this  conception  was  abandoned  and 
replaced  by  a  totally  different  one.  This  change  is  of  such  great 
importance  in  the  whole  development  of  psychoanalysis,  as  well 
for  its  technique  as  for  its  theory,  that  I  must  give  it  in  some 
detail.  That  I  may  not  weary  you  with  the  complete  recitation  of 
cases  already  well  known,  I  will  only  just  refer  to  those  in  Breuer 
and  Freud's  book,  which  I  shall  assume  are  known  to  you,  for 
the  book  has  been  translated  into  English.1  You  will  there  have 
read  that  case  of  Breuer's,  to  which  Freud  referred  in  his  lectures 
at  Clark  University.  You  will  have  found  that  the  hysterical 
symptom  has  not  some  unknown  organic  source,  but  is  based  on 
certain  highly  emotional  psychic  events,  so-called  injuries  of  the 
heart,  traumata  or  shocks.  I  think  that  now-a-days  every  care- 
ful observer  of  hysteria  will  acknowledge  from  his  own  experi- 
ence that,  at  the  root  of  this  disease,  such  painful  events  are 
to  be  found.  This  truth  was  already  known  to  the  physicians  of 
former  days. 

THE  TRAUMATIC  THEORY 

So  far  as  I  know  it  was  really  Charcot  who,  probably  under 
the  influence  of  Page's  theory  of  nervous  shock,  made  this  obser- 
vation of  theoretical  value.  Charcot  knew,  by  means  of  hypno- 
tism, at  that  time  not  understood,  that  hysterical  symptoms  could 
be  called  forth  by  suggestion  as  well  as  made  to  disappear  through 

1 "  Selected  Papers  on  Hysteria  and  Other  Psychoneuroses,"  by  Prof. 
Sigmund  Freud.  Nervous  and  Mental  Disease  Monograph  Series,  No.  4. 


6  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

suggestion.  Charcot  believed  that  he  saw  something  like  this  in 
those  cases  of  hysteria  caused  by  accident,  cases  which  became 
more  and  more  frequent.  The  shock  can  be  compared  with 
hypnosis  in  Charcot's  sense.  The  emotion  provoked  by  the  shock 
causes  a  momentary  complete  paralysis  of  will-power,  during 
which  the  remembrance  of  the  trauma  can  be  fixed  as  an  auto- 
suggestion. This  conception  gives  us  the  original  theory  of 
psychoanalysis.  Etiological  investigation  had  to  prove  whether 
this  mechanism,  or  a  similar  one,  was  also  to  be  found  in  those 
cases  of  hysteria  which  could  not  be  called  traumatic.  This  lack 
of  knowledge  of  the  etiology  of  hysteria  was  supplied  by  the  dis- 
covery of  Breuer  and  Freud.  They  proved  that  even  in  those 
ordinary  cases  of  hysteria  which  cannot  be  said  to  be  caused  by 
shock  the  same  trauma-element  was  to  be  found,  and  seemed  to 
have  an  etiological  value.  It  is  natural  that  Freud,  a  pupil  of 
Charcot,  was  inclined  to  suppose  that  this  discovery  in  itself  con- 
firmed the. ideas  of  Charcot.  Accordingly  the  theory  elaborated  out 
of  the  experience  of  that  period,  mainly  by  Freud,  received  the 
imprint  of  a  traumatic  etiology.  The  name  of  trauma-theory  is 
therefore  justified;  nevertheless  this  theory  had  also  a  new  aspect. 
I  am  not  here  speaking  of  the  truly  admirable  profoundness  and 
precision  of  Freud's  analysis  of  symptoms,  but  of  the  relinquish- 
ing of -the  conception  of  auto-suggestion,  which  was  the  dynamic 
force  in  the  original  theory,  and  its  substitution  by  a  detailed 
exposure  of  the  psychological  and  psycho-physical  effects  caused 
by  the  shock.  The  shock,  the  trauma,  provokes  a  certain  exci- 
tation which,  under  normal  circumstances,  finds  a  natural  outlet 
("abreagieren").  In  hysteria  it  is  only  to  a  certain  extent  that 
the  excitation  does  find  a  natural  outlet ;  a  partial  retention  takes 
place,  the  so-called  blocking  of  the  affect  ("Affecteinklemmung"). 
This  amount  of  excitation,  which  can  be  compared  with  an 
amount  of  potential  energy,  is  transmuted  by  the  mechanism  of 
conversion  into  "physical"  symptoms. 

The  Cathartic  Method. — According  to  this  conception,  ther- 
apy had  to  find  the  means  by  which  those  retained  emotions 
could  be  brought  to  a  mode  of  expression,  thereby  setting  free 
from  the  symptoms  that  amount  of  repressed  and  converted  feel- 
ing. Hence  this  was  called  the  cleansing,  or  cathartic  method; 
its  aim  was  to  discharge  the  blocked  emotions.  From  this  it  fol- 


- 

CONSIDERATION  OF  EARLY   HYPOTHESES  7 

lows  that  analysis  was  then  more  or  less  closely  concerned  with 
the  symptoms,  that  is  to  say,  the  symptoms  were  analyzed — the 
work  of  analysis  began  with  the  symptoms,  a  method  abandoned 
to-day.  The  cathartic  method,  and  the  theory  on  which  it  is 
based,  are,  as  you  know,  accepted  by  other  colleagues,  so  far  as 
they  are  interested  at  all  in  psychoanalysis,  and  you  will  find  some 
appreciation  and  quotation  of  the  theory,  as  well  as  of  the  method, 
in  several  text-books. 

THE  TRAUMATIC  THEORY  CRITICIZED 

Although,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  discovery  of  Breuer  and 
Freud  is  certainly  true,  as  can  easily  be  proved  by  every  case  of 
hysteria,  several  objections  can  be  raised  to  the  theory.  It  must 
be  acknowledged  that  their  method  shows  with  wonderful  clear- 
ness the  connection  between  the  actual  symptoms  and  the  shock, 
as  well  as  the  psychological  consequences  which  necessarily  fol- 
low from  the  traumatic  event,  but  nevertheless,  a  doubt  arises  as 
to  the  etiological  significance  of  the  so-called  trauma  or  shock. 

It  is  extremely  difficult  for  any  critical  observer  of  hysteria 
to  admit  that  a  neurosis,  with  all  its  complications,  can  be  based 
on  events  in  the  past,  as  it  were  on  one  emotional  experience  long 
past.  It  is  more  or  less  fashionable  at  present  to  consider  all 
abnormal  psychic  conditions,  in  so  far  as  they  are  of  exogenic 
growth,  as  the  consequences  of  hereditary  degeneration,  and  not 
as  essentially  influenced  by  the  psychology  of  the  patient  and  the 
environment.  This  conception  is  too  narrow,  and  not  justified 
by  the  facts.  To  use  an  analogy,  we  know  perfectly  well  how  to 
find  the  right  middle  course  in  dealing  with  the  etiology  of 
tuberculosis.  There  are,  of  course,  cases  of  tuberculosis  where 
in  earliest  childhood  the  germ  of  the  disease  falls  upon  a  soil 
predisposed  by  heredity,  so  that  even  in  the  most  favorable  con- 
ditions the  patient  cannot  escape  his  fate.  None  the  less,  there 
are  also  cases  where,  under  favorable  conditions,  illness  can  be 
prevented,  despite  a  predisposition  to  the  disease.  Nor  must  we 
forget  that  there  are  still  other  cases  without  hereditary  dispo- 
sition or  individual  inclination,  and,  in  spite  of  this,  fatal  infec- 
tion occurs.  All  this  holds  equally  true  of  the  neuroses,  where 
matters  are  not  essentially  different  in  their  method  of  procedure 
than  they  are  in  general  pathology.  Neither  a  theory  in  which 


8  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

the  predisposition  is  all-important,  nor  one  in  which  the  influence 
of  the  environment  is  all-important,  will  ever  suffice.  It  is  true 
the  shock-theory  can  be  said  to  give  predominance  to  the  pre- 
disposition, even  insisting  that  some  past  trauma  is  the  condition 
sine  qua  non  of  the  neurosis.  Yet  Freud's  ingenious  empiricism 
presented  even  in  the  "  Studies  in  Hysteria  "  some  views,  insuffi- 
ciently exploited  at  the  time,  which  contained  the  elements  of  a 
theory  that  perhaps  more  accentuates  the  value  of  environment 
than  inherited  or  traumatic  predisposition. 

THE  CONCEPTION  OF  "REPRESSION" 

Freud  synthesized  these  observations  in  a  form  that  was  to 
extend  far  beyond  the  limits  of  the  shock- theory.  This  concep- 
tion is  the  hypothesis  of  repression  ("  Verdrangung").  As  you 
know,  by  the  word  "repression"  is  understood  the  psychic 
mechanism  of  the  re-transportation  of  a  conscious  thought  into 
the  unconscious  sphere.  We  call  this  sphere  the  "  unconscious  " 
and  define  it  as  the  psyche  of  which  we  are  not  conscious.  The 
conception  of  repression  was  derived  from  the  numerous  obser- 
vations made  upon  neurotic  patients  who  seemed  to  have  the 
capacity  of  forgetting  important  events  or  thoughts,  and  this  to 
such  an  extent  that  one  might  easily  believe  nothing  had  ever 
happened.  These  observations  can  be  constantly  made  by  any- 
one who  comes  into  close  psychological  relations  with  his  patients. 
As  a  result  of  the  Breuer  and  Freud  studies,  it  was  found  that 
a  very  special  method  was  needed  to  call  again  into  consciousness 
those  traumatic  events  long  since  forgotten.  I  wish  to  call  atten- 
tion to  this  fact,  since  it  is  decidedly  astonishing  for  a  priori 
we  are  not  inclined  to  believe  that  valuable  things  can  ever  be 
forgotten.  For  this  reason  several  critics  object  that  the  reminis- 
cences which  have  been  called  into  consciousness  by  certain 
hypnotic  processes  are  only  suggested  ones,  and  do  not  corre- 
spond with  reality.  Even  granting  this,  it  would  certainly  not  be 
justifiable  to  regard  this  in  itself  as  a  condemnation  of  "repres- 
sion," since  there  are  and  have  been  not  a  few  cases  where  the 
fact  of  repressed  reminiscences  can  be  proved  by  objective 
demonstration.  Even  if  we  exclude  this  kind  of  proof,  it  is 
possible  to  test  the  phenomena  by  experiment.  The  association- 
tests  provide  us  with  the  necessary  experiences.  Here  we  find 


CONSIDERATION   OF  EARLY   HYPOTHESES  9 

the  extraordinary  fact  that  associations  pertaining  to  complexes 
saturated  with  emotion  emerge  with  much  greater  difficulty  into 
consciousness,  and  are  much  more  easily  forgotten. 

As  my  experiments  on  this  subject  were  never  reexamined, 
the  conclusions  were  never  adopted,  until  just  lately,  when 
Wilhelm  Peters,  a  disciple  of  Kraepelin,  proved  in  general  my 
previous  observation,  namely,  that  painful  events  are  very  rarely 
correctly  reproduced  ("die  unlustbetonten  Erlebnisse  werden  am 
seltensten  richtig  reproduciert"). 

As  you  see,  the  conception  rests  upon  a  firm  empirical  basis. 
There  is  still  another  side  of  the  question  worth  looking  at.  We 
might  ask  if  the  repression  has  its  root  in  a  conscious  determina- 
tion of  the  individual,  or  do  the  reminiscences  disappear  rather 
passively  without  conscious  knowledge  on  the  part  of  the  patient? 
In  Freud's  works  you  will  find  a  series  of  excellent  proofs  of 
the  existence  of  a  conscious  tendency  to  repress  what  is  painful. 
Every  psychoanalyst  will  know  more  than  a  dozen  cases  show- 
ing clearly  in  their  history  one  particular  moment  at  feast  in 
which  the  patient  knows  more  or  less  clearly  that  he  will  not  allow 
himself  to  think  of  the  repressed  reminiscences.  A  patient  once 
gave  this  significant  answer:  "  Je  1'ai  mis  de  cote"  (I  have  put 
it  aside). 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  we  must  not  forget  that  there  are  a 
number  of  cases  where  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  show,  even  with 
the  most  careful  examination,  the  slightest  trace  of  conscious 
repression ;  in  these  cases  it  seems  as  if  the  mechanism  of  repres- 
sion were  much  more  in  the  nature  of  a  passive  disappearance, 
or  even  as  if  the  impressions  were  dragged  beneath  the  surface 
by  some  force  operating  from  below.  From  the  first  class  of 
cases  we  get  the  impression  of  complete  mental  development, 
accompanied  by  a  kind  of  cowardice  in  regard  to  their  own  feel- 
ings; but  among  the  second  class  of  cases  you  may  find  patients 
showing  a  more  serious  retardation  of  development.  The 
mechanism  of  repression  seems  here  to  be  much  more  an  auto- 
matic one. 

This  difference  is  closely  connected  with  the  question  I  men- 
tioned before — that  is,  the  question  of  the  relative  importance 
of  predisposition  and  environment.  The  first  class  of  cases  ap- 
pears to  be  mainly  influenced  by  environment  and  education;  in 


10  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

the  other,  predisposition  seems  to  play  the  chief  part.  It  is 
pretty  clear  where  treatment  will  have  more  effect.  (As  I  have 
already  said,  the  conception  of  repression  contains  an  element 
which  is  in  intrinsic  contradiction  with  the  shock-theory.)  We 
find,  for  instance,  in  the  case  of  Miss  Lucy  R.,2  described  by 
Freud,  that  the  essential  etiological  moment  is  not  to  be  found  in 
the  traumatic  scenes,  but  in  the  insufficient  readiness  of  the 
patient  to  set  store  upon  the  convictions  passing  through  her 
mind.  But  if  we  think  of  the  later  views  we  find  in  the  "  Selected 
Papers  on  Hysteria,"3  where  Freud,  forced  through  further  ex- 
perience, supposes  certain  traumatic  sexual  events  in  early 
childhood  to  be  the  source  of  the  neurosis,  then  we  get  the  im- 
,-pression  of  an  incongruity  between  the  conception  of  repression 
/  and  that  of  shock.  The  conception  of  "  repression  "  contains  the 
elements  of  an  etiological  theory  of  environment,  while  the  con- 
,  ception  of  "  shock  "  is  a  theory  of  predisposition. 

But  at  first  the  theory  of  neurosis  developed  along  the  lines 
of  the  trauma  conception.  Pursuing  Freud's  later  investigations, 
we  see  him  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  no  such  positive  value 
can  be  ascribed  to  the  traumatic  events  of  later  life,  as  their 
effects  could  only  be  conceivable  if  the  particular  predisposition 
of  the  patient  were  taken  into  account.  Evidently  the  enigma 
.was  to  be  resolved  just  at  this  point.  As  the  analytical  work 
progressed,  the  roots  of  hysterical  symptoms  were  found  in  child- 
hood ;  they  reached  back  from  the  present  far  into  the  past.  The 
further  end  of  the  chain  threatened  to  get  lost  in  the  mists  of 
early  childhood.  But  it  was  just  there  that  reminiscences  ap- 
peared of  certain  scenes  where  sexual  activities  had  been  mani- 
fested in  an  active  or  passive  way,  and  these  were  unmistakably 
connected  with  the  events  which  provoked  the  neurosis.  (For 
further  details  of  these  events  you  must  consult  the  works  of 
Freud,  as  well  as  the  numerous  analyses  which  have  already  been 
published.) 

THE  THEORY  OF  SEXUAL  TRAUMA  IN  CHILDHOOD 

Hence  arose  the  theory  of  sexual  trauma  in  childhood  which 
provoked  bitter  opposition,  not  from  theoretical  objections  against 
the  shock-theory  in  general,  but  against  the  element  of  sexuality 

2  Monograph  No.  4,  p.  14. 

3  Ibid. 


CONSIDERATION  OF  EARLY   HYPOTHESES  II 

in  particular.  In  the  first  place,  the  idea  that  children  might  be 
sexual,  and  that  sexual  thoughts  might  play  any  part  with  them, 
aroused  great  antagonism.  In  the  second  place,  the  possibility 
that  hysteria  had  a  sexual  basis  was  most  unwelcome,  for  the 
sterile  position  that  hysteria  was  either  a  reflex  neurosis  of  the 
uterus  or  arose  from  lack  of  sexual  satisfaction  had  just  been 
given  up.  Naturally,  therefore,  the  real  value  of  Freud's  obser- 
vations was  disputed.  If  criticis  had  limited  themselves  to  that 
question,  and  had  not  adorned  their  opposition  with  moral  indig- 
nation, a  calm  discussion  would  have  been  possible.  In  Germany, 
for  instance,  this  method  of  attack  made  it  impossible  to  get  any 
credit  for  Freud's  theory.  As  soon  as  the  question  of  sexuality 
was  touched  general  resistance,  as  well  as  haughty  contempt  were 
awakened.  But  in  truth  there  was  but  one  question  at  issue: 
were  Freud's  observations  true  or  not?  That  alone  could  be  of 
importance  to  a  really  scientific  mind.  It  is  possible  that  these 
observations  do  not  seem  very  probable  at  first  sight,  but  it  is  un- 
justifiable to  condemn  them  a  priori  as  false.  Wherever  really 
sincere  and  thorough  investigations  have  been  carried  out  it  has 
been  possible  to  corroborate  his  observations.  The  fact  of  a 
psychological  chain  of  consequences  has  been  absolutely  con- 
firmed, although  Freud's  original  conception,  that  real  traumatic 
scenes  were  always  to  be  found,  has  not  been. 

THEORY  OF  SEXUAL  TRAUMA  ABANDONED 

Freud  himself  abandoned  his  first 'presentation  of  the  shock- 
theory  after  further  and  more  thorough  investigation.  He  could 
no  longer  retain  his  original  view  as  to  the  reality  of  the  sexual 
shock.  Excessive  sexuality,  sexual  abuse  of  children,  or  very 
early  sexual  activity  in  childhood,  were  later  on  seen  to  be  of 
secondary  importance.  You  will  perhaps  be  inclined  to  share  the 
suspicion  of  the  critics  that  the  results  derived  from  analytic 
researches  were  based  on  suggestion.  There  might  be  some  justi- 
fication for  this  view  if  these  assertions  had  been  published  broad- 
cast by  some  charlatan  or  ill-qualified  person.  But  anyone  who 
has  carefully  read  Freud's  works,  and  has  himself  similarly 
sought  to  penetrate  into  the  psychology  of  his  patients,  will  know 
that  it  is  unjust  to  attribute  to  an  intellect  like  Freud's  the  crude 


12  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

mistakes  of  a  journeyman.  Such  suggestions  only  redound  to 
the  discredit  of  those  who  make  them.  Ever  since  then  patients 
have  been  examined  by  every  possible  means  from  which  sug- 
gestion could  be  absolutely  excluded.  And  still  the  associations 
described  by  Freud  have  been  proved  to  be  true  in  principle. 
We  are  thus  obliged  in  the  first  place  to  regard  many  of  these 
shocks  of  early  childhood  as  phantoms,  while  other  traumata  have 
objective  reality.  With  this  knowledge,  at  first  somewhat  con- 
fusing, the  etiological  importance  of  the  sexual  trauma  in  child- 
hood declines,  as  it  seems  now  quite  irrelevant  whether  the 
trauma  really  took  place  or  not.  Experience  teaches  us  that 
phantasy  can  be,  so  to  speak,  of  the  same  traumatic  value  as  real 
shock.  In  the  face  of  such  facts,  every  physician  who  treats 
hysteria  will  recall  cases  where  the  neurosis  has  indeed  been 
provoked  by  violent  traumatic  impressions.  This  observation 
is  only  in  apparent  contradiction  with  our  knowledge,  already 
referred  to,  of  the  unreality  of  traumatic  events  in  childhood. 
We  know  perfectly  well  that  many  persons  suffer  shocks  in 
childhood  or  in  adult  life  who  nevertheless  get  no  neurosis. 
Therefore  the  trauma  has,  ceteris  paribus,  no  absolute  etiological 
importance,  but  owes  its  efficacy  to  the  nature  of  the  soil  upon 
which  it  falls. 

THE  PREDISPOSITION  FOR  THE  TRAUMA 

No  neurosis  will  grow  on  an  unprepared  soil  where  no  germ 
of  neurosis  is  already  existing;  the  trauma  will  pass  by  without 
leaving  any  permanent  and  effective  mark.  From  this  simple 
consideration  it  is  pretty  clear  that,  to  make  it  really  effective,  the 
patient  must  meet  the  shock  with  a  certain  internal  predisposi- 
tion. This  internal  predisposition  is  not  to  be  understood  as 
meaning  that  totally  obscure  hereditary  predisposition  of  which 
we  know  so  little,  but  as  a  psychological  development  which 
reaches  its  apogee  and  its  manifestation  at  the  moment,  and  even 
through,  the  trauma. 

I  will  show  you  first  of  all  by  a  concrete  case  the  nature  of 
the  trauma  and  its  psychological  predisposition.  A  young  lady 
suffered  from  severe  hysteria  after  a  sudden  fright.  She  had 
been  attending  a  social  gathering  that  evening  and  was  on  her  way 
home  at  midnight,  accompanied  by  several  acquaintances,  when 


CONSIDERATION  OF  EARLY   HYPOTHESES  13 

a  carriage  came  behind  her  at  full  speed.  Everyone  else  drew 
aside,  but  she,  paralyzed  by  fright,  remained  in  the  middle  of  the 
street  and  ran  just  in  front  of  the  horses.  The  coachman  cracked 
his  whip,  cursed  and  swore  without  any  result.  She  ran  down 
the  whole  length  of  the  street,  which  led  to  a  bridge.  There  her 
strength  failed  her,  and  to  escape  the  horses'  feet  she  thought,  in 
her  extreme  despair,  of  jumping  into  the  water,  but  was  pre- 
vented in  time  by  passers-by.  This  very  same  lady  happened  to 
be  present  a  little  later  on  that  bloody  day,  the  22d  of  January, 
in  St.  Petersburg,  when  a  street  was  cleared  by  soldiers'  volleys. 
Right  and  left  of  her  she  saw  people  dying  or  falling  down  badly 
wounded.  Remaining  perfectly  calm  and  clear-minded,  she  caught 
sight  of  a  gate  that  gave  her  escape  into  another  street. 

These  terrible  moments  did  not  agitate  her,  either  at  the  time, 
or  later  on.  Whence  it  must  follow  that  the  intensity  of  the 
trauma  is  of  small  pathogenic  importance:  the  special  conditions 
form  the  essential  factors.  Here,  then,  we  have  the  key  by 
which  we  are  able  to  unlock  at  least  one  of  the  anterooms  to  the 
understanding  of  predisposition.  We  must  next  ask  what  were 
the  special  circumstances  in  this  carriage-scene.  The  terror  and 
apprehension  began  as  soon  as  the  lady  heard  the  horses'  foot- 
steps. It  seemed  to  her  for  a  moment  as  if  these  betokened  some 
terrible  fate,  portending  her  death  or  something  dreadful.  Then 
she  lost  consciousness.  The  real  causation  is  somehow  con- 
nected with  the  horses.  The  predisposition  of  the  patient,  who 
acts  thus  wildly  at  such  a  commonplace  occurence,  could  perhaps 
be  found  in  the  fact  that  horses  had  a  special  significance  for  her. 
It  might  suffice,  for  instance,  if  she  had  been  once  concerned  in 
some  dangerous  accident  with  horses.  This  assumption  does  hold 
good  here.  When  she  was  seven  years  old,  she  was  once  out  on  a 
carriage-drive  with  the  coachman;  the  horses  shied  and  ap- 
proached the  steep  river-bank  at  full  speed.  The  coachman 
jumped  off  his  seat,  and  shouted  to  her  to  do  the  same,  which  she 
was  barely  able  to  do,  as  she  was  frightened  to  death.  Still,  she 
sprang  down  at  the  right  moment,  whilst  the  horses  and  carriage 
were  dashed  down  below. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  prove  that  such  an  event  must  leave  a 
lasting  impression  behind.  But  still  it  does  not  offer  any  ex- 
planation for  the  exaggerated  reaction  to  an  inadequate  stimulus. 


14  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

Up  till  now  we  only  know  that  this  later  symptom  had  its  pro- 
logue in  childhood,  but  the  pathological  side  remains  obscure. 
To  solve  this  enigma  we  require  other  experiences.  The  amnesia 
which  I  will  set  forth  fully  later  on  shows  clearly  the  dispropor- 
tion between  the  so-called  shock  and  the  part  played  by  phantasy. 
In  this  case  phantasy  must  predominate  to  an  extraordinary 
extent  to  provoke  such  an  effect.  The  shock  in  itself  was  too 
insignificant.  We  are  at  first  inclined  to  explain  this  incident  by 
the  shock  that  took  place  in  childhood,  but  it  seems  to  me  with 
little  success.  It  is  difficult  to  understand  why  the  effect  of  this 
infantile  trauma  had  remained  latent  so  long,  and  why  it  only 
now  came  to  the  surface.  The  patient  must  surely  have  had 
opportunities  enough  during  her  lifetime  of  getting  out  of  the 
way  of  a  carriage  going  full  speed.  The  reminiscence  of  the 
danger  to  her  life  seems  to  be  quite  insufficiently  effective:  the 
real  danger  in  which  she  was  at  that  one  moment  in  St.  Peters- 
burg did  not  produce  the  slightest  trace  of  neurosis,  despite  her 
being  predisposed  by  an  impressive  event  in  her  childhood.  The 
whole  of  this  traumatic  event  still  lacks  explanation;  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  shock-theory  we  are  hopelessly  in  the  dark. 

You  must  excuse  me  if  I  return  so  persistently  to  the  shock- 
theory.  I  consider  this  necessary,  as  now-a-days  many  people, 
even  those  who  regard  us  seriously,  still  keep  to  this  standpoint. 
Thus  the  opponents  to  psychoanalysis  and  those  who  never  read 
psychoanalytic  articles,  or  do  so  quite  superficially,  get  the  im- 
pression that  in  psychoanalysis  the  old  shock-theory  is  still  in 
force. 

The  question  arises:  what  are  we  to  understand  by  this  pre- 
disposition, through  which  an  insignificant  event  produces  such  a 
pathological  effect?  This  is  the  question  of  chief  significance, 
and  we  shall  find  that  the  same  question  plays  an  important  role 
in  the  theory  of  neurosis,  for  we  have  to  understand  why  ap- 
parently irrelevant  events  of  the  past  are  still  producing  such 
effects  that  they  are  able  to  interfere  in  an  impish  and  capricious 
way  with  the  normal  reactions  of  actual  life. 

THE  SEXUAL  ELEMENT  IN  THE  TRAUMA 

The  early  school  of  psychoanalysis,  and  its  later  disciples,  did 
all  they  could  to  find  the  origin  of  later  effects  in  the  special  kind 


CONSIDERATION  OF  EARLY  HYPOTHESES  15 

of  early  traumatic  events.  Freud's  research  penetrated  most 
deeply.  He  was  the  first,  and  it  was  he  alone,  who  discovered 
that  a  certain  sexual  element  was  connected  with  the  shock.  It  is 
just  this  sexual  element  which,  speaking  generally,  we  may  con- 
sider as  unconscious,  and  it  is  to  this  that  the  traumatic  effect  is 
generally  due.  The  unconsciousness  of  sexuality  in  childhood 
seems  to  throw  a  light  upon  the  problem  of  the  persistent  con- 
stellation of  the  primary  traumatic  event.  The  true  emotional 
meaning  of  the  accident  was  all  along  hidden  from  the  patient, 
so  that  in  consciousness  this  emotion  was  never  brought  into 
play,  the  emotion  never  wore  itself  out,  it  was  never  used  up. 
We  might  perhaps  explain  the  effect  in  the  following  way:  this 
persistent  constellation  was  a  kind  of  "  suggestion  a  echeance," 
for  it  is  unconscious  and  the  action  occurs  only  at  the  stipulated 
moment. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  give  detailed  examples  to  prove  that 
the  true  nature  of  sexual  manifestations  during  infancy  is  not 
understood.  Physicians  know,  for  instance,  how  often  a  mani- 
fest masturbation  persisting  up  to  adult  life,  especially  in  women, 
is  not  understood  as  such.  It  is,  therefore,  easy  to  realize  that 
to  a  child  the  true  nature  of  certain  actions  would  be  far  less 
conscious.  And  that  is  the  reason  why  the  real  meaning  of  these 
events,  even  in  adult  life,  is  still  hidden  from  our  consciousness. 
In  some  cases,  even,  the  traumatic  events  are  themselves  for- 
gotten, either  because  their  sexual  meaning  is  quite  unknown  to 
the  patient,  or  because  their  sexual  character  is  inacceptable,  being 
too  painful.  It  is  what  we  call  "  repressed." 

As  we  have  already  mentioned,  Freud's  observation,  that  the 
admixture  of  a  sexual  element  with  the  shock  is  essential  for  any 
pathological  effect,  leads  on  to  the  theory  of  the  infantile  sexual 
trauma. 

This  hypothesis  may  be  thus  expressed :  the  pathogenic  event 
is  a  sexual  one.  This  conception  forced  its  way  with  difficulty. 
The  general  opinion  that  children  have  no  sexuality  in  early  life 
made  such  an  etiology  inadmissible,  and  at  first  prevented  its 
acceptance. 

THE  INFANTILE  SEXUAL  PHANTASY 

The  change  in  the  shock-theory  already  referred  to,  namely, 
that  in  general  the  shock  is  not  even  real,  but  is  essentially  a 


1 6  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

phantasy,  did  not  make  things  better.  On  the  contrary,  still 
worse,  since  we  are  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  we  find  in  the 
infantile  phantasy  at  least  one  positive  sexual  manifestation.  It 
is  no  longer  some  brutal  accidental  impression  from  the  outside, 
but  a  positive  sexual  manifestation  created  by  the  child  itself,  and 
this  very  often  with  unmistakable  clearness.  Even  real  trau- 
matic events  of  an  outspoken  sexual  type  do  not  always  happen 
to  a  child  quite  without  its  cooperation,  but  are  not  infrequently 
apparently  prepared  and  brought  about  by  the  child  itself. 
Abraham  stated  this,  proving  his  statement  with  evidence  of  the 
greatest  interest,  and  this,  in  connection  with  many  other  experi- 
ences of  the  same  kind,  makes  it  very  probable  that  even  really 
sexual  scenes  are  frequently  called  forth  and  supported  by  the 
peculiar  psychological  state  of  the  child's  mind.  Perfectly  inde- 
pendently from  psychoanalytic  investigation,  medical  criminology 
has  discovered  striking  parallels  to  this  psychoanalytic  statement. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  INFANTILE  SEXUALITY 

The  precocious  manifestations  of  sexual  phantasy  as  cause  of 
the  shock  now  seemed  to  be  the  source  of  neurosis.  This,  logic- 
ally, attributed  to  children  a  far  more  developed  sexuality  than 
had  been  hitherto  admitted.  Many  cases  of  precocious  sexuality 
had  been  recorded  in  literature  long  before  the  time  of  psycho- 
analysis. For  instance,  a  girl  of  two  years  old  with  normal  men- 
struation, or  cases  of  boys  of  three  and  four  and  five  years  of 
age  having  normal  erections,  and  so  far  ready  for  cohabitation. 
These  were,  however,  curiosities.  Great  astonishment  was 
caused  when  Freud  began  to  attribute  to  the  child,  not  only  ordi- 
nary sexuality,  but  even  polymorphic  perverse  sexuality;  all  this 
based  upon  the  most  exhaustive  investigation.  People  inclined 
much  too  lightly  to  the  superficial  view,  that  all  this  was  merely 
suggested  to  the  patients,  and  was  a  highly  disputable  artificial 
product.  Hence  Freud's4  "Three  Contributions  to  the  Sexual 
Theory  "  not  only  provoked  opposition,  but  even  violent  indigna- 
tion. It  is  surely  unnecessary  to  insist  upon  the  fact  that  science 
is  not  furthered  by  indignation,  and  that  arguments  of  moral 
resentment  may  perhaps  please  the  moralist — that  is  his  busi- 
ness— but  not  a  scientific  man,  for  whom  truth  must  be  the  guide, 
and  not  moral  indignation.  If  matters  are  really  as  Freud 
describes  them,  all  indignation  is  absurd ;  if  they  are  not  so,  again 
indignation  will  avail  nothing.  The  conclusion  as  to  what  is  the 
truth  can  only  be  arrived  at  on  the  field  of  observation  and  re- 
search, and  nowhere  else.  The  opponents  of  psychoanalysis  with 
certain  honorable  exceptions,  display  rather  ludicrously  a  some- 
what pitifully  inadequate  realization  of  the  situation.  Although 
the  psychoanalytic  school  could  unfortunately  learn  nothing  from 
their  critics,  as  the  criticism  took  no  notice  of  its  investigations, 
and  although  it  could  not  get  any  useful  hints,  because  the  psycho- 

*  No.  7  of  this  Monograph  Series. 


1 8  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

analytic  method  of  investigation  was,  and  still  is  unknown  to 
these  critics,  it  remains  a  serious  duty  for  our  school  to  explain 
thoroughly  the  contrast  between  the  existing  conceptions.  It  is 
not  our  endeavor  to  put  forward  a  paradoxical  theory  contra- 
dicting all  existing  theories,  but  rather  to  introduce  a  certain 
category  of  new  observations  into  science.  Therefore  we  regard 
it  as  a  duty  to  do  whatever  we  can  to  promote  agreement.  It  is 
true,  we  must  renounce  all  hope  of  obtaining  the  approval  of 
those  who  blindly  oppose  us,  but  we  do  hope  to  come  to  an  under- 
standing with  scientific  men.  This  will  be  my  endeavor  now  in 
attempting  to  sketch  the  further  intellectual  development  of  the 
psychoanalytic  conception,  so  far  as  the  so-called  sexual  theory 
of  the  neuroses  is  concerned. 

OBJECTIONS  TO  THE  SEXUAL  HYPOTHESIS 

As  I  said,  the  finding  of  precocious  sexual  phantasies,  which 
seemed  the  source  of  the  neurosis,  forced  Freud  to  the  view  of  a 
highly  developed  sexuality  in  infancy.  As  you  know,  the  reality 
of  this  observation  has  been  contested  by  many,  who  maintain 
that  crude  error,  that  narrow-minded  delusion,  misled  Freud  and 
his  whole  school,  alike  in  Europe  and  in  America,  so  that  the 
Freudians  saw  things  that  never  existed.  They  regarded  them 
as  people  in  the  grip  of  an  intellectual  epidemic.  I  have  to  admit 
that  I  possess  no  way  of  defending  myself  against  criticism  of 
this  kind.  The  only  thing  I  can  do  is  to  refer  to  my  own  work, 
asking  thoughtful  persons  if  they  discover  there  any  clear  indica- 
tions of  madness.  Moreover,  I  must  maintain  that  science  has 
no  right  to  start  with  the  idea  that  certain  facts  do  not  exist.  At 
the  most  one  can  say:  "This  seems  very  improbable — we  want 
still  more  proofs  and  more  research."  This  is  also  our  reply  to 
the  objection:  "It  is  impossible  to  discover  anything  trustworthy 
by  the  psychoanalytic  method,  as  this  method  is  practically  ab- 
surd." No  one  believed  in  Galileo's  telescope,  and  Columbus  dis- 
covered America  on  a  false  hypothesis.  The  psychoanalytic 
method  may  be  full  of  errors,  but  this  should  not  prevent  its  use. 
Many  chronological  and  medical  observations  have  been  made 
with  inadequate  instruments.  We  must  regard  the  objections  to 
the  method  as  pretexts  until  our  opponents  come  to  grip  with  the 


THE  INFANTILE   SEXUALITY  19 

facts.  It  is  there  a  decision  must  be  reached — not  by  wordy 
warfare. 

Our  opponents  also  call  hysteria  a  psychogenic  disease.  We 
believe  that  we  have  discovered  the  etiological  determinants  of 
this  disease  and  we  present,  without  fear,  the  results  of  our  in- 
vestigation to  open  criticism.  Whoever  cannot  accept  our  results 
should  publish  his  own  analyses  of  cases.  So  far  as  I  know,  that 
has  never  been  done,  at  least  not  in  European  literature.  Under 
these  circumstances,  critics  have  no  right  to  deny  our  conclusions 
a  priori.  Our  opponents  have  likewise  cases  of  hysteria,  and 
those  cases  are  surely  as  psychogenic  as  our  own.  There  is 
nothing  to  prevent  their  pointing  out  the  psychological  determi- 
nants. The  method  is  not  the  real  question.  Our  opponents 
content  themselves  with  disputing  and  reviling  our  researches, 
but  they  do  not  point  out  any  better  way. 

Many  other  critics  are  more  careful  and  more  just,  and  do 
admit  that  we  have  made  many  valuable  observations,  and  that 
the  associations  of  ideas  given  by  the  psychoanalytic  method  will 
very  probably  stand,  but  they  maintain  that  our  point  of  view  is 
wrong.  The  alleged  sexual  phantasies  of  childhood,  with  which 
we  are  here  chiefly  concerned,  must  not  be  taken,  they  say,  as 
real  sexual  functions,  being  obviously  something  quite  different, 
since  at  the  approach  of  puberty  the  characteristic  peculiarities  of 
sexuality  are  acquired. 

This  objection,  being  calmly  and  reasonably  made,  deserves 
to  be  taken  seriously.  Such  objections  must  also  have  occurred 
to  every  one  who  has  taken  up  analytic  work,  and  there  is  reason 
enough  for  deep  reflection. 

THE  CONCEPTION  OF  SEXUALITY 

The  first  difficulty  arises  with  the  conception  of  sexuality.  If 
we  take  sexuality  as  meaning  the  fully-developed  function,  we 
must  confine  this  phenomenon  to  maturity,  and  then,  of  course,  we 
have  no  right  to  speak  of  sexuality  in  childhood.  If  we  so  limit 
our  conception,  then  we  are  confronted  again  with  new  and  much 
greater  difficulties.  The  question  arises,  how  then  must  we  de- 
nominate all  those  correlated  biological  phenomena  pertaining  to 
the  sexual  functions  sensu  strictiori,  as,  for  instance,  pregnancy, 


20  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

childbirth,  natural  selection,  protection  of  the  offspring,  etc.  It 
seems  to  me  that  all  this  belongs  to  the  conception  of  sexuality 
as  well,  although  a  very  distinguished  colleague  did  once  say, 
"  Childbirth  is  not  a  sexual  act."  But  if  these  things  do  pertain 
to  this  concept  of  sexuality,  then  there  must  also  belong  innumer- 
able psychological  phenomena.  For  we  know  that  an  incredible 
number  of  the  pure  psychological  functions  are  connected  with 
this  sphere.  I  shall  only  mention  the  extraordinary  importance 
of  phantasy  in  the  preparation  for  the  sexual  function.  Thus  we 
arrive  rather  at  a  biological  conception  of  sexuality,  which  in- 
cludes both  a  series  of  psychological  phenomena  as  well  as  a 
series  of  physiological  functions.  If  we  might  be  allowed  to 
make  use  of  an  old  but  practical  classification,  we  might  identify 
sexuality  with  the  so-called  instinct  of  the  preservation  of  the 
species,  as  opposed  in  some  way  to  the  instinct  of  self-preservation. 
Looking  at  sexuality  from  this  point  of  view,  we  shall  not  be 
astonished  to  find  that  the  root  of  the  instinct  of  race-preserva- 
tion, so  extraordinarily  important  in  nature,  goes  much  deeper 
than  the  limited  conception  of  sexuality  would  ever  allow.  Only 
the  more  or  less  grown-up  cat  actually  catches  mice,  but  the 
kitten  plays  at  least  as  if  it  were  catching  mice.  The  young 
dog's  playful  indications  of  attempts  at  cohabitation  begin  long 
before  puberty.  We  have  a  right  to  suppose  that  mankind  is  no 
exception  to  this  rule,  although  we  do  not  notice  similar  things  on 
the  surface  in  our  well  brought-up  children.  Investigation  of  the 
children  of  the  lower  classes  proves  that  they  are  no  exceptions 
to  the  biological  rule.  It  is  of  course  infinitely  more  probable 
that  this  most  important  instinct,  that  of  the  preservation  of  the 
race,  is  already  nascent  in  the  earliest  childhood,  than  that  it  falls 
at  one  swoop  from  heaven,  full-fledged,  at  the  age  of  puberty. 
The  sexual  organs  also  develop  long  before  the  slightest  sign  of 
their  future  function  can  be  noticed.  Where  the  psychoanalytic 
school  speaks  of  sexuality,  this  wider  conception  of  its  function 
must  be  linked  to  it,  and  we  do  not  mean  simply  that  physical 
sensation  and  function  generally  designated  by  the  term  sexual. 
It  might  be  said  that,  in  order  to  avoid  any  misunderstanding  on 
this  point,  the  term  sexuality  should  not  be  given  to  these  pre- 
paratory phenomena  in  childhood.  This  demand  is  surely  not 
justified,  since  the  anatomical  nomenclature  is  taken  from  the 


THE   INFANTILE   SEXUALITY  21 

fully-developed  system,  and  special  names  are  not  generally  given 
to  more  or  less  rudimentary  formations. 

After  all,  the  objections  to  the  terminology  do  not  spring  so 
much  from  objective  arguments,  as  from  those  tendencies  which 
lie  at  the  base  of  moral  indignation.  But  then  no  objection  can 
be  made  to  the  sex-terminology  of  Freud,  as  he  rightly  gives  to 
the  whole  sexual  development  the  general  name  of  sexuality. 
But  certain  conclusions  have  been  drawn  which,  so  far  as  I  can 
see,  cannot  be  maintained. 

THE  "  SEXUALITY  "  OF  THE  SUCKLING 

When  we  examine  how  far  back  in  childhood  the  first  traces 
of  sexuality  reach,  we  have  to  admit  implicitly  that  sexuality 
already  exists  ab  ovo,  but  only  becomes  manifest  a  long  time  after 
intrauterine  life.  Freud  is  inclined  to  see  in  the  function  of 
taking  the  mother's  breast  already  a  kind  of  sexuality.  Freud 
was  bitterly  reproached  for  this  view,  but  it  must  be  admitted 
that  it  is  very  ingenious,  if  we  follow  his  hypothesis,  that  the 
instinct  of  the  preservation  of  the  race  has  existed  separately 
from  the  instinct  of  self-preservation  ab  ovo  and  has  undergone 
a  separate  development.  This  way  of  thinking  is  not,  however, 
a  biological  one.  It  is  not  possible  to  separate  the  two  ways  of 
manifestation  of  the  hypothetical  vital  process,  and  to  credit  each 
with  a  different  order  of  development.  If  we  limit  ourselves  to 
judging  by  what  we  can  actually  observe,  we  must  reckon  with 
the  fact  that  everywhere  in  nature  we  see  that  the  vital  processes 
in  an  individual  consist  for  a  considerable  space  of  time  in  the 
functions  of  nutrition  and  growth  only.  We  see  this  very  clearly 
in  many  animals;  for  instance,  in  butterflies,  which  as  cater- 
pillars pass  an  asexual  existence  of  nutrition  and  growth.  To 
this  stage  of  life  we  may  allot  both  the  intrauterine  life  and  the 
extrauterine  time  of  suckling  in  man.  This  time  is  marked  by 
the  absence  of  all  sexual  function;  hence  to  speak  of  manifest 
sexuality  in  the  suckling  would  be  a  contradictio  in  adjecto. 

The  most  we  can  do  is  to  ask  if,  among  the  life-functions  of 
the  suckling,  there  are  any  that  have  not  the  character  of  nutri- 
tion, or  of  growth,  and  hence  could  be  termed  sexual.  Freud 
points  out  the  unmistakable  emotion  and  satisfaction  of  the  child 
while  suckling,  and  compares  this  process  with  that  of  the  sexual 


22  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

act.  This  similarity  leads  him  to  assume  the  sexual  quality  in  the 
act  of  suckling.  This  conclusion  is  only  admissible  if  it  can  be 
proved  that  the  tension  of  the  need,  and  its  gratification  by  a 
release,  is  a  sexual  process.  That  the  act  of  suckling  has  this 
emotional  mechanism  proves,  however,  just  the  contrary.  There- 
fore we  can  only  say  this  emotional  mechanism  is  found  both  in 
nutrition  and  in  the  sexual  function.  If  Freud  by  analogy  de- 
duces the  sexual  quality  of  sucking  from  this  emotional  mechan- 
ism, then  his  biological  empiricism  would  also  justify  the  termi- 
nology qualifying  the  sexual  act  as  a  function  of  nutrition.  This 
is  unjustifiably  exceeding  the  bounds  in  either  case.  It  is  evident 
that  the  act  of  sucking  cannot  be  qualified  as  sexual. 

We  are  aware,  however,  of  functions  in  the  suckling  stage 
which  have  apparently  nothing  to  do  with  the  function  of  nutri- 
tion, such  as  sucking  the  finger,  and  its  many  variations.  This 
is  perhaps  the  place  to  discuss  whether  these  things  belong  to  the 
sexual  sphere.  These  acts  do  not  subserve  nutrition,  but  produce 
pleasure.  Of  that  there  is  no  doubt,  but  nevertheless  it  is  dis- 
putable whether  this  pleasure  which  comes  by  sucking  should  be 
called  by  analogy  a  sexual  satisfaction.  It  might  be  called  equally 
pleasure  by  nutrition.  This  latter  qualification  has  even  the 
further  justification  that  the  form  and  kind  of  pleasure  belong 
entirely  to  the  function  of  nutrition.  The  hand  which  is  used  for 
sucking  finds  in  this  way  preparation  for  future  use  in  feeding 
one's  self.  Under  these  circumstances  nobody  will  be  inclined 
by  a  petitio  principii  to  characterize  the  first  manifestation  of 
human  life  as  sexual.  The  statement  which  we  make  that  the 
act  of  sucking  is  attended  by  a  feeling  of  satisfaction  leaves  us  in 
doubt  whether  the  sucking  does  contain  anything  else  but  the 
character  of  nutrition.  We  notice  that  the  so-called  bad  habits 
shown  by  a  child  as  it  grows  up  are  closely  linked  with  early 
infantile  sucking,  such  for  instance  as  putting  the  finger  in  the 
mouth,  biting  the  nails,  picking  the  nose,  ears,  etc.  We  see,  too, 
how  closely  these  habits  are  connected  with  later  masturbation. 
By  analogy,  the  conclusion  that  these  infantile  habits  are  the  first 
step  to  onanism,  or  to  actions  similar  to  onanism,  and  are  there- 
fore of  a  well-marked  sexual  character  cannot  be  denied:  it  is 
perfectly  justified.  I  have  seen  many  cases  in  which  a  correlation 
existed  between  these  childish  habits  and  later  masturbation.  If 


THE  INFANTILE   SEXUALITY  23 

this  masturbation  takes  place  in  later  childhood,  before  puberty, 
it  is  nothing  but  an  infantile  bad  habit.  From  the  fact  of  the 
correlation  between  masturbation  and  the  other  childish  bad  habits, 
we  conclude  that  these  habits  have  a  sexual  character,  in  so  far  as 
they  are  used  to  obtain  physical  satisfaction  from  the  child's  own 
body. 

"TThis  new  standpoint  is  comprehensible  and  perhaps  necessary. 
It  is  only  a  few  steps  from  this  point  of  view  to  regarding  the 
infant's  act  of  sucking  as  of  a  sexual  character.  As  you  know, 
Freud  took  the  few  steps,  but  you  have  just  heard  me  reject 
them.  We  have  come  to  a  difficulty  which  is  very  hard  to  solve. 
It  would  be  relatively  easy  if  we  could  accept  two  instincts  side  by 
side,  each  an  entity  in  itself.  Then  the  act  of  sucking  the  breast 
would  be  both  an  action  of  nutrition  and  a  sexual  act.  This 
seems  to  be  Freud's  conception.  We  find  in  adults  the  two  in- 
stincts separated,  yet  existing  side  by  side,  or  rather  we  find  that 
there  are  two  manifestations,  in  hunger,  and  in  the  sexual  instinct. 
But  at  the  sucking  age,  we  find  only  the  function  of  nutrition, 
rewarded  by  both  pleasure  and  satisfaction.  Its  sexual  character 
can  only  be  argued  by  a  petitio  principii,  for  the  facts  show  that 
the  act  of  sucking  is  the  first  to  give  pleasure,  not  the  sexual 
function.  Obtaining  pleasure  is  by  no  means  identical  with  sexu- 
ality. We  deceive  ourselves  if  we  think  that  in  the  suckling  both 
instincts  exist  side  by  side,  for  then  we  project  into  the  psyche 
of  the  child  the  facts  taken  from  the  psychology  of  adults.  The 
existence  of  the  two  instincts  side  by  side  does  not  occur  in  suck- 
ling, for  one  of  these  instincts  has  no  existence  as  yet,  or,  if 
existing,  is  quite  rudimentary.  If  we  are  to  regard  the  striving 
for  pleasure  as  something  sexual,  we  might  as  well  say  paradox- 
ically that  hunger  is  a  sexual  striving,  for  this  instinct  seeks 
pleasure  by  satisfaction.  If  this  were  true,  we  should  have  to 
give  our  opponents  permission  to  apply  the  terminology  of  hunger 
to  sexuality.  It  would  facilitate  matters,  were  it  possible  to 
maintain  that  both  instincts  existed  side  by  side,  but  it  contradicts 
the  observed  facts  and  would  lead  to  untenable  consequences. 

Before  I  try  to  resolve  this  opposition,  I  must  first  say  some- 
thing more  about  Freud's  sexual  theory,  and  its  transformations. 


24  THE  THEORY  OF  PSYCHOANALYSIS 

THE  POLYMORPHIC  PERVERSE  SEXUALITY  OF  INFANCY 

We  have  already  reached  the  conclusion,  setting  out  from  the 
idea  of  the  shock  being  apparently  due  to  sexual  phantasies,  that 
the  child  must  have,  in  contradiction  to  the  views  hitherto  prevail- 
ing, a  nearly  fully  formed  sexuality,  and  even  a  polymorphic  per- 
verse sexuality.  Its  sexuality  does  not  seem  concentrated  on  the 
genital  functions  or  on  the  other  sex,  but  is  occupied  with  its  own 
body ;  whence  it  is  said  to  be  auto-erotic.  If  its  sexual  instinct  is 
directed  to  another  person,  no  distinction,  or  but  the  very  slightest, 
is  made  as  to  sex.  It  can,  therefore,  be  very  easily  homo-sexual. 
In  place  of  non-existing  local  sexual  function  there  exists  a  series 
of  so-called  bad  habits,  which  from  this  standpoint  look  like  a 
series  of  perversities,  since  they  have  the  closest  analogy  with  the 
later  perversities.  In  consequence  of  this  way  of  regarding  the 
subject,  sexuality,  whose  nature  is  ordinarily  regarded  as  a  unit, 
becomes  decomposed  into  a  multiplicity  of  isolated  striving  forces. 
Freud  then  arrived  at  the  conception  of  the  so-called  "  erogenous 
zones,"  by  which  he  understood  mouth,  skin,  anus,  etc.  (It  is, 
of  course,  a  universal  tacit  presumption  that  sexuality  has  its 
origin  in  the  sexual  organs.) 

The  term  "erogenous  zone"  reminds  us  of  " spasmo-genic 
zones,"  and  the  underlying  image  is  at  all  events  the  same;  just  as 
the  spasmo-genic  zone  is  the  place  whence  the  spasm  arises,  so 
the  erogenous  zone  is  the  place  whence  arises  an  affluent  to  sexu- 
ality. Based  upon  the  model  of  the  genital  organs  as  the  anatom- 
ical origin  of  sexuality,  the  erogenous  zones  must  be  conceived  as 
being  so  many  genitals  out  of  which  the  streams  of  sexuality  flow 
together.  This  is  the  condition  of  the  polymorphic  perverse  sex- 
uality of  childhood.  The  expression  "  perverse "  seems  to  be 
justified  by  the  close  analogy  with  the  later  perversities  which 
present,  so  to  speak,  but  a  new  edition  of  certain  early  infantile 
perverse  habits.  They  are  very  often  connected  with  one  or 
other  of  the  different  erogenous  zones,  and  are  the  cause  of  those 
exchanges  in  sex,  which  are  so  characteristic  for  childhood. 

According  to  this  view,  the  later  normal  and  monomorphic 
sexuality  is  built  up  out  of  several  components.  The  first  divi- 
sion is  into  homo-  and  hetero-sexual  components,  to  which  is 
linked  an  auto-erotic  component,  as  also  there  are  components  of 


THE  INFANTILE   SEXUALITY  25 

the  different  erogenous  zones.  This  conception  can  be  compared 
with  the  position  of  physics  before  Robert  Mayer,  when  only 
isolated  forces,  having  elementary  qualities,  were  recognized, 
whose  interchanges  were  little  understood.  The  law  of  the  con- 
servation of  energy  brought  order  into  the  inter-relationship  of 
the  forces,  at  the  same  time  abolishing  the  conception  of  those 
forces  as  absolute  elements,  but  regarding  them  as  interchange- 
able manifestations  of  one  and  the  same  energy. 

THE  SEXUAL  COMPONENTS  AS  ENERGIC  MANIFESTATIONS 

Conceptions  of  great  importance  do  not  arise  only  in  one  brain, 
but  are  floating  in  the  air  and  dip  here  and  there,  appearing  even 
under  other  forms,  and  in  other  regions,  where  it  is  often  very 
difficult  to  recognize  the  common  fundamental  idea.  Thus  it 
happened  with  the  splitting  up  of  sexuality  into  the  polymorphic 
perverse  sexuality  of  childhood. 

Experience  forces  us  to  accept  a  constant  exchange  of  isolated 
components  as  we  notice  more  and  more  that,  for  instance,  per- 
versities exist  at  the  expense  of  normal  sexuality,  or  that  the 
increase  of  certain  kinds  of  sex-manifestations  causes  correspond- 
ing deficiencies  of  another  kind.  To  make  the  matter  clearer,  let 
me  give  you  an  instance :  A  young  man  had  a  homo-sexual  phase 
lasting  for  some  years,  during  which  time  women  had  no  interest 
for  him.  This  abnormal  condition  changed  gradually  toward  his 
twentieth  year  and  his  erotic  interest  became  more  and  more 
normal.  He  began  to  take  great  interest  in  girls,  and  soon  the  last 
traces  of  his  homo-sexuality  were  conquered.  This  condition 
lasted  several  years,  and  he  had  some  successful  love-affairs. 
Then  he  wished  to  get  married ;  he  had  here  to  suffer  a  great  dis- 
appointment, as  the  girl  to  whom  he  proposed  refused  him. 
During  the  ensuing  phase  he  absolutely  abandoned  the  idea  of 
marriage.  After  that  he  experienced  a  dislike  of  all  women,  and 
one  day  he  discovered  that  he  was  again  perfectly  homo-sexual, 
that  is,  young  men  had  an  unusually  irritating  influence  upon  him. 
To  regard  sexuality  as  composed  of  a  fixed  hetero-sexual  com- 
ponent, and  a  like  homo-sexual  element,  will  never  suffice  to  ex- 
plain this  case,  for  the  conception  of  the  existence  of  fixed  com- 
ponents excludes  any  kind  of  transformation. 


26  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

To  understand  the  case,  we  have  to  admit  a  great  mobility  of 
/the  sexual  components,  which  even  goes  so  far  that  one  of  the 
components  can  practically  disappear  completely,  whilst  the  other 
comes  to  the  front.  If  only  substitution  took  place,  if  for  instance 
the  homo-sexual  component  entered  the  unconscious,  leaving  the 
field  of  consciousness  to  the  hetero-sexual  component,  modern 
scientific  knowledge  would  lead  us  to  conclude  that  equivalent 
effects  arose  from  the  unconscious  sphere.  Those  effects  would 
have  to  be  conceived  as  resistances  against  the  activity  of  the 
hetero-sexual  component,  as  a  repugnance  towards  women. 

Experience  tells  us  nothing  about  this.  There  have  been  some 
small  traces  of  influences  of  this  kind,  but  of  such  slight  intensity 
that  they  cannot  be  compared  with  the  intensity  of  the  former 
homo-sexual  component.  On  the  conception  that  has  been  out- 
lined, it  is  also  incomprehensible  how  this  homo-sexual  com- 
ponent, regarded  as  so  firmly  fixed,  can  ever  disappear  without 
leaving  active  traces.  To  explain  things,  the  process  of  develop- 
ment is  called  in,  forgetting  that  this  is  only  a  word  and  explains 
nothing.  You  see,  therefore,  the  urgent  necessity  of  an  adequate 
explanation  of  such  a  change  of  scene.  For  this  we  must  have 
a  dynamic  hypothesis.  Such  commutations  are  only  conceivable 
as  dynamic  or  energic  processes.  I  cannot  conceive  how  mani- 
festations of  functions  can  disappear  if  I  do  not  accept  a  change 
in  the  relation  of  one  force  to  another.  Freud's  theory  did  have 
regard  to  this  necessity  in  the  conception  of  components.  The 
presumption  of  isolated  functions  existing  side  by  side  began  to 
be  somewhat  weakened,  more  in  practice  than  theoretically.  It 
was  replaced  by  an  energic  conception.  The  term  chosen  for  this 
conception  is  "  libido." 


CHAPTER  III 
THE  CONCEPTION  OF  LIBIDO 

Freud  had  already  introduced  the  idea  of  libido  in  his5  "  Three 
Contributions  to  the  Sexual  Theory  "  in  the  following  words : 

"  In  biology,  the  fact  that  both  mankind  and  animals  have  a 
sexual  want  is  expressed  by  the  conception  of  the  sexual  desire.  * 
This  is  done  by  analogy  with  the  want  of  nourishment,  so-called 
hunger.     Popular  speech  has  no  corresponding  characterization 
for  the  word  "  hunger,"  and  so  science  uses  the  word  "  libido." 

In  Freud's  definition,  the  term  "  libido  "  appears  as  exclusively 
a  sexual  desire.  "  Libido "  as  a  medical  term  is  certainly  used 
for  sexual  desire,  and  especially  for  sexual  lust.  But  the  classical 
definition  of  this  word  as  found  in  Cicero,  Sallust,  and  others, 
was  not  so  exclusive.  The  word  is  there  used  in  a  more  general 
sense  for  every  passionate  desire.  I  only  just  mention  this  defini- 
tion here,  as  further  on  it  plays  an  important  part  in  our  con- 
siderations, and  as  it  is  important  to  know  that  the  term  "  libido  " 
has  really  a  much  wider  meaning  than  is  associated  with  it 
through  medical  language. 

The  idea  of  libido  (while  maintaining  its  sexual  meaning  in 
the  author's  sense  as  long  as  possible)  offers  us  the  dynamic  value 
which  we  are  seeking  in  order  to  explain  the  shifting  of  the 
psychological  scenery.  With  this  conception  it  is  much  simpler 
to  formulate  the  phenomena  in  question,  instead  of  by  the  incom- 
prehensible substitution  of  the  homo-  by  the  hetero-sexual  com- 
ponent We  may  say  now  that  the  libido  has  gradually  withdrawn 
from  its  homo-sexual  manifestation  and  is  transferred  in  the  same 
measure  into  a  hetero-sexual  manifestation.  Thus  the  homo- 
sexual component  practically  disappears.  It  remains  only  an 
empty  possibility,  signifying  nothing  in  itself.  Its  very  existence, 
therefore,  is  rightly  denied  by  the  laity,  just  as  we  doubt  the 
possibility  that  any  man  selected  at  random  would  turn  out  to  be 
a  murderer.  By  the  use  of  this  conception  of  libido  many  rela- 

5  No.  7  of  this  Monograph  Series. 

27 


28  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

tions   between   the   isolated    sexual    functions    are    now    easily 
explicable. 

The  early  idea  of  the  multiplicity  of  sexual  components  must 
be  given  up:  it  savors  too  much  of  the  ancient  philosophical 
notion  of  the  faculties  of  the  mind.  Its  place  is  taken  by  libido 
which  is  capable  of  manifold  applications.  The  earlier  com- 
ponents only  represent  possibilities  of  activities.  With  this 
conception  of  libido,  the  original  idea  of  a  divided  sexuality  with 
different  roots  is  replaced  by  a  dynamic  unity,  without  which  the 
formerly  important  components  remain  but  empty  possibilities  of 
activities.  This  development  in  our  conception  is  of  great  im- 
portance. We  have  here  the  same  process  which  Robert  Mayer 
.  introduced  into  dynamics.  Just  as  the  conception  of  the  con- 
servation of  energy  removed  their  character  as  elements  from 
the  forces,  imparting  to  them  the  character  of  a  manifestation 
of  energy,  so  the  libido  theory  similarly  removes  from  the  sexual 
components  the  idea  of  the  mental  "  faculties "  as  elements 
("  Seelen  Vermogen"),  and  ascribes  to  them  merely  phenomenal 
value.  This  conception  represents  the  impression  of  reality  far 
more  than  the  theory  of  components.  With  a  libido-theory  we 
can  easily  explain  the  case  of  the  young  man.  The  disappoint- 
ment he  met  with,  just  at  the  time  he  had  definitely  decided  on 
a  hetero-sexual  life,  drove  his  libido  again  from  the  hetero-sexual 
manifestation  into  a  homo-sexual  form,  thus  calling  forth  his 
entire  homo-sexuality. 

THE  ENERGIC  THEORY  OF  LIBIDO 

I  must  point  out  here  that  the  analogy  with  the  law  of  the 
conservation  of  energy  is  very  close.  In  both  cases  the  question 
arises  when  an  effect  of  energy  disappears,  where  is  this  energy 
meanwhile,  and  where  will  it  reemerge?  Applying  this  point  of 
view  as  a  heuristic  principle  to  the  psychology  of  human  conduct, 
we  shall  make  some  astonishing  discoveries.  Then  we  shall  see 
how  the  most  heterogeneous  phases  of  individual  psychological 
development  are  connected  in  an  energic  relationship.  Every 
time  we  see  a  person  who  is  splenetic  or  has  a  morbid  conviction, 
or  some  exaggerated  mental  attitude,  we  know  here  is  too  much 
libido,  and  the  excess  must  have  been  taken  away  from  some- 


THE  CONCEPTION  OF  LIBIDO  29 

where  else  where  there  is  too  little.  From  this  standpoint,  psycho- 
analysis is  that  method  which  discovers  those  places  or  functions 
where  there  is  too  little  or  too  much  libido,  and  restores  the  just 
proportions.  Thus  the  symptoms  of  a  neurosis  must  be  con- 
sidered as  exaggerated  and  correspondingly  disturbed  functional 
manifestations  overflowing  with  libido.  The  energy  which  has 
been  used  for  this  purpose  has  been  taken  away  from  somewhere 
else,  and  it  is  the  task  of  the  psychoanalyst,  to  restore  it  whence 
it  was  taken,  or  to  bestow  it  where  it  was  never  before  given. 
Those  complexes  of  symptoms  which  are  mainly  characterized 
by  lack  of  libido,  for  instance,  the  so-called  apathetic  conditions, 
force  us  to  reverse  the  question.  Here  we  have  to  ask,  where  did 
the  libido  go?  The  patient  gives  us  the  impression  of  having  no 
libido,  and  there  are  occasionally  physicians  who  believe  exactly 
what  the  patients  tell  them.  Such  physicians  have  a  primitive 
way  of  thinking,  like  the  savage  who  believes,  when  he  sees  an 
eclipse  of  the  sun,  that  the  sun  has  been  swallowed  up  and  put 
to  death.  But  the  sun  is  only  hidden,  and  so  it  is  with  these 
patients.  Although  the  libido  is  there,  it  is  not  get-at-able,  and 
is  inaccessible  to  the  patient  himself.  Superficially,  we  have  here 
a  lack  of  libido.  It  is  the  task  of  psychoanalysis  to  search  for 
that  hidden  place  where  the  libido  dwells,  and  where  it  is  as  a 
rule  inaccessible  to  the  patient.  The  hidden  place  is  the  non- 
conscious,  which  may  also  be  called  the  unconscious,  without 
ascribing  to  it  any  mysterious  significance. 

THE  CONCEPTION  OF  UNCONSCIOUS  PHANTASY 

Psychoanalytic  experience  has  taught  us  that  there  are  non- 
conscious  systems  which,  by  analogy  with  conscious  phantasies, 
can  be  described  as  phantasy-systems  of  the  unconscious.  In 
cases  of  neurotic  apathy  these  phantasy  systems  of  the  uncon- 
scious are  the  objects  of  the  libido.  We  know  well  that,  when 
we  speak  of  unconscious  phantasy  systems,  we  only  speak  figura- 
tively. We  do  not  mean  more  by  this  than  that  we  accept  as  an 
indispensable  postulate  the  conception  of  psychic  entities  exist- 
ing outside  consciousness.  Experience  teaches  us,  we  might  say 
daily,  that  there  are  unconscious  psychic  processes  which  influence 
the  disposition  of  the  libido  in  a  perceptible  way.  Those  cases, 

3 


30  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

known  to  every  psychiatrist  in  which  complicated  symptoms  of 
delusions  emerge  with  relative  great  suddenness,  show  clearly 
that  there  must  be  unconscious  psychic  development  and  prepara- 
tion, for  we  cannot  regard  them  as  having  been  just  suddenly 
formed  when  they  entered  consciousness. 

THE  SEXUAL  TERMINOLOGY 

I  feel  myself  justified  in  making  this  digression  concerning 
the  unconscious.  I  have  done  it  to  point  out  that,  with  regard  to 
shifting  of  the  manifestations  of  the  libido,  we  have  to  deal  not 
only  with  the  conscious,  but  also  with  another  factor,  the  uncon- 
scious, whither  the  libido  sometimes  disappears.  We  have  not 
yet  followed  up  the  discussion  of  the  further  consequences  which 
result  from  the  adoption  of  the  libido-theory. 

Freud  has  taught  us,  and  we  see  it  in  the  daily  practice  of 
psychoanalysis,  that  in  earlier  childhood,  instead  of  the  normal 
later  sexuality,  we  find  many  tendencies  which  in  later  life  are 
called  perversions.  We  have  to  admit  that  Freud  has  the  right 
to  give  to  these  tendencies  a  sexual  terminology.  Through  the 
introduction  of  the  conception  of  the  libido,  we  see  that  in  adults 
those  elementary  components  which  seemed  to  be  the  origin  and 
the  source  of  normal  sexuality,  lose  their  importance,  and  are 
reduced  to  mere  potentialities.  The  effective  power,  their  life 
force,  is  to  be  found  in  the  libido.  Without  libido  these  com- 
ponents mean  nothing.  We  saw  that  Freud  gives  to  the  con- 
ception of  libido  an  undoubted  sexual  definition,  somewhat  in  the 
sense  of  sexual  desire.  The  general  view  is,  that  libido  in  this 
sense  only  comes  into  being  at  the  age  of  puberty.  How  are  we 
then  to  explain  the  fact  that  in  Freud's  view  a  child  has  a 
polymorphic-perverse  sexuality,  and  that  therefore,  in  children, 
the  libido  brings  into  action  not  only  one,  but  several  possibili- 
ties? If  the  libido,  in  Freud's  sense,  begins  its  existence  at 
puberty,  it  could  not  be  held  accountable  for  earlier  infantile 
perversions.  In  that  case,  we  should  have  to  regard  these  infantile 
perversions  as  "  faculties  of  the  mind,"  in  the  sense  of  the 
theory  of  components.  Apart  from  the  hopeless  theoretical  con- 
fusion which  would  thus  arise,  we  must  not  multiply  explanatory 
principles  in  accordance  with  the  philosophical  axiom :  "  principia 
praeter  necessitatem  non  sunt  multiplicanda." 


THE   CONCEPTION  OF  LIBIDO  31 

There  is  no  other  way  but  to  agree  that  before  and  after 
puberty  it  is  the  same  libido.  Hence,  the  perversities  of  child- 
hood have  arisen  exactly  in  the  same  way  as  those  of  adults. 
Common  sense  will  object  to  this,  as  obviously  the  sexual  needs 
of  children  cannot  possibly  be  the  same  as  those  of  adults.  We 
might  admit,  with  Freud,  that  the  libido  before  and  after  puberty 
is  -the  same,  but  is  different  in  its  intensity.  Instead  of  the 
intense  post-pubertal  sexual  desire,  there  would  be  first  a  slight 
sexual  desire  in  childhood,  with  diminishing  intensity  until,  as 
we  reach  back  to  the  first  year,  it  is  but  a  trace.  We  might  admit 
that  we  are  biologically  in  agreement  with  this  formulation.  It 
would  then  have  to  be  also  agreed  that  everything  that  falls  into 
the  region  of  this  enlarged  conception  of  sexuality  is  already  pre- 
existing but  in  miniature ;  for  instance,  all  those  emotional  mani- 
festations of  psycho-sexuality:  desire  for  affection,  jealousy,  and 
many  others,  and  by  no  means  least,  the  neuroses  of  childhood. 

It  must,  however,  be  admitted  that  these  emotional  manifesta- 
tions of  childhood  by  no  means  make  the  impression  of  being  in 
miniature;  their  intensity  can  rival  that  of  an  affect  among 
adults.  Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  experience  has  shown  that 
perverse  manifestations  of  sexuality  in  childhood  are  often  more 
glaring,  and  indeed  seem  to  have  a  greater  development,  than  in 
adults.  If  an  adult  under  similar  conditions  had  this  apparently 
excessive  form  of  sexuality,  which  is  practically  normal  in 
children,  we  could  rightly  expect  a  total  absence  of  normal  sexu- 
ality, and  of  many  other  important  biological  adaptations.  An 
adult  is  rightly  called  perverse  when  his  libido  is  not  used  for 
normal  functions,  and  the  same  could  be  said  of  a  child:  it  is 
polymorphous  perverse  since  it  does  not  know  normal  sexual 
functions. 

These  considerations  suggest  the  idea  that  perhaps  the  amount 
of  libido  is  always  the  same,  and  that  no  increase  first  occur  at 
puberty.     This  somewhat  audacious  conception  accords  with  the  y' 
example  of  the  law  of  the  conservation  of  energy,  according  to 
which  the  quantity  of  energy  remains  always  the  same.     It  is 
possible  that  the  summit  of  maturity  is  reached  when  the  infantile  * 
diffuse  applications  of  libido  discharge  themselves  into  the  one    i^ 
channel  of  definite  sexuality,  and  thus  lose  themselves  therein. 
For  the  moment  we  must  content  ourselves  with  these  sug- 


32  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

gestions,  for  we  must  next  pay  attention  to  one  point  of  criticism 
concerning  the  quality  of  the  infantile  libido. 

Many  critics  do  not  admit  that  the  infantile  libido  is  simply 
less  intense  or  is  essentially  of  the  same  kind  as  the  libido  of 
adults.  The  emotions  among  adults  are  correlated  with  the 
genital  functions.  This  is  not  the  case  in  children,  or  it  is  only 
so  in  miniature,  or  exceptionally,  and  this  gives  rise  to  an  im- 
portant distinction,  which  must  not  be  undervalued. 

I  believe  such  an  objection  is  justified.  There  is  really  a  con- 
siderable difference  between  immature  and  fully  developed  func- 
tions, as  there  is, a  difference  between  play  and  reality,  between 
shooting  with  blank  and  with  loaded  cartridges.  That  the 
childish  libido  has  the  harmlessness  demanded  by  common  sense 
cannot  be  contested.  But  of  course  none  can  deny  that  blank 
shooting  is  shooting.  We  must  get  accustomed  to  the  idea  that 
sexuality  really  exists,  even  before  puberty,  right  back  in  early 
childhood,  and  that  we  have  no  right  to  pretend  that  manifesta- 
tions of  this  immature  sexuality  are  not  sexual.  This  does  not 
indeed  refute  the  objection,  which,  while  recognizing  the  existence 
of  infantile  sexuality  in  the  form  already  described,  yet  denies 
Freud's  claim  to  regard  as  sexual  early  infantile  manifestations 
such  as  sucking.  We  have  mentioned  already  the  motives  which 
induced  Freud  to  enlarge  the  sexual  terminology  in  such  a  way. 
We  mentioned,  too,  how  this  very  act  of  sucking,  for  instance, 
could  be  conceived  from  the  standpoint  of  pleasure  in  the  function 
of  nutrition,  and  that,  on  biological  grounds,  there  was  more 
justification  for  this  derivation  than  for  Freud's  view.  It  might 
be  objected  that  these  and  similar  activities  of  the  oral  zones  are 
found  in  later  life  in  an  undoubted  sexual  use.  This  only  means 
that  these  activities  can  in  later  life  be  used  for  sexual  purposes, 
but  that  does  not  tell  us  anything  concerning  the  primitive  sexual 
nature  of  these  forms.  I  must,  therefore,  admit  that  I  find  no 
ground  for  regarding  the  activities  of  the  suckling,  which  provoke 
pleasure  and  satisfaction,  from  the  standpoint  of  sexuality.  In- 
deed there  are  many  objections  against  this  conception.  It  seems 
to  me,  in  so  far  as  I  am  capable  of  judging  these  difficult  prob- 
lems, that  from  the  standpoint  of  sexuality  it  is  necessary  to 
divide  human  life  into  three  phases. 


THE  CONCEPTION  OF  LIBIDO  33 

THE  THREE  PHASES  OF  LIFE 

The  first  phase  embraces  the  first  years  of  life.  I  call  this 
part  of  life  the  pre-sexual  stage.  These  years  correspond  to  the 
caterpillar-stage'of  butterflies,  and  are  characterized  almost  ex- 
clusively by  the  functions  of  nutrition  and  growth. 

The  second  phase  embraces  the  later  years  of  childhood  up  to 
puberty,  and  might  be  called  the  p_re-pubertal  stage. 

The  third  phase  is  that  of  riper  years,  proceeding  only  from 
puberty  onwards,  and  could  be  called  the  time  of  maturity. 

You  cannot  have  failed  to  notice  that  we  become  conscious  of 
the  greatest  difficulty  when  we  arrive  at  the  question  at  what  age 
we  must  put  the  limit  of  the  pre-sexual  stage.  I  am  ready  to 
confess  my  uncertainty  with  regard  to  this  problem.  If  I  survey 
the  psychoanalytical  experiences  with  children,  as  yet  insuffi- 
ciently numerous,  at  the  same  time  keeping  in  mind  the  observa- 
tions made  by  Freud,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  limit  of  this  phase 
lies  between  the  third  and  fifth  years.  This,  of  course,  with  due 
consideration  for  the  greatest  individual  diversities.  From  vari- 
ous aspects  this  is  an  important  age.  The  child  has  emancipated 
itself  already  from  the  helplessness  of  the  baby,  and  a  series  of 
important  psychological  functions  have  acquired  a  firm  hold. 
From  this  period  on,  the  obscurity  of  the  early  infantile 
"  amnesia,"  or  the  discontinuity  of  the  early  infantile  conscious- 
ness, begins  to  clear  up  through  the  sporadic  continuity  of 
memory.  It  seems  as  if,  at  this  age,  a  considerable  step  had 
been  made  towards  emancipation  and  the  formation  of  a  new  and 
independent  personality.  As  far  as  we  know,  the  first  signs  of 
interest  and  activity  which  may  fairly  be  called  sexual  fall  into 
this  period,  although  these  sexual  indications  have  still  the  in- 
fantile characteristics  of  harmlessness  and  naivete.  I  think  I 
have  sufficiently  demonstrated  why  a  sexual  terminology  cannot 
be  given  to  the  pre-sexual  stage,  and  so  we  may  now  consider  the 
other  problems  from  the  standpoint  we  have  just  reached.  You 
will  remember  that  we  dropped  the  problem  of  the  libido  in  child- 
hood, because  it  seemed  impossible  to  arrive  at  any  clearness  in 
that  way.  But  now  we  are  obliged  to  take  up  the  question  again, 
if  only  to  see  whether  the  energic  conception  harmonizes  with  the 
principles  just  advanced.  We  saw,  following  Freud's  conception, 


34  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

that  the  altered  manifestations  of  the  infantile  sexuality,  if  com- 
pared with  those  of  maturity,  are  to  be  explained  by  the  diminu- 
tion of  sexuality  in  childhood. 

THE  SEXUAL  DEFINITION  OF  LIBIDO  MUST  BE  ABANDONED 

The  intensity  of  the  libido  is  said  to  be  diminished  relatively  to 
the  early  age.  But  we  advanced  just  now  several  considerations 
to  show  why  it  seems  doubtful  if  we  can  regard  the  vital  func- 
tions of  a  child,  sexuality  excepted,  as  of  less  intensity  than  those 
of  adults.  We  can  really  say  that,  sexuality  excepted,  the  emo- 
tional phenomena,  and,  if  nervous  symptoms  are  present,  then 
these  likewise  are  quite  as  intense  as  those  of  adults.  On  the 
energic  conception  of  the  libido  all  these  things  are  but  manifesta- 
tions of  the  libido.  But  it  becomes  rather  difficult  to  conceive 
that  the  intensity  of  the  libido  can  ever  constitute  the  difference 
between  a  mature  and  an  immature  sexuality.  The  explanation 
of  this  difference  seems  rather  to  postulate  a  change  in  the  local- 
ization of  the  libido  (if  the  expression  be  allowed).  In  con- 
tradistinction to  the  medical  definition  the  libido  in  children  is 
occupied  far  more  with  certain  side-functions  of  a  mental  and 
physiological  nature  than  with  local  sexual  functions.  One  is 
here  already  tempted  to  remove  from  the  term  libido  the  predi- 
cate "  sexualis,"  and  thus  to  have  done  with  the  sexual  definition 
of  the  term  given  in  Freud's  "Three  Contributions."  This 
necessity  becomes  imperative,  when  we  put  it  in  the  form  of  a 
question:  The  child  in  the  first  years  of  its  life  is  intensely 
living — suffering  and  enjoying — the  question  is,  whether  his 
striving,  his  suffering,  his  enjoyment  are  by  reason  of  his  libido 
sexualis?  Freud  has  pronounced  himself  in  favor  of  this  sup- 
position. There  is  no  need  to  repeat  the  reasons  through  which 
I  am  compelled  to  accept  the  pre-sexual  stage.  The  larva  stage 
possesses  a  libido  of  nutrition,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  but  not  yet 
the  libido  sexualis.  It  is  thus  we  must  put  it,  if  we  wish  to  keep 
the  energic  conception  which  the  libido  theory  offers  us.  I  think 
there  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  abandon  the  sexual  definition  of 
libido,  or  we  shall  lose  what  there  is  valuable  in  the  libido  theory, 
that  is,  the  energic  conception.  For  a  long  time  past  the  desire 
to  extend  the  meaning  of  libido,  and  to  remove  it  from  its  narrow 


THE   CONCEPTION  OF  LIBIDO  35 

and  sexual  limitations,  has  forced  itself  upon  Freud's  school. 
One  was  never  weary  of  insisting  that  sexuality  in  the  psycho- 
logical sense  was  not  to  be  taken  too  literally,  but  in  a  broader 
connotation;  but  exactly  how,  that  remained  obscure,  and  thus 
too,  sincere  criticism  remained  unsatisfied. 

I  do  not  think  I  am  going  astray  if  I  see  the  real  value  of  the 
libido  theory  in  the  energic  conception,  and  not  in  its  sexual 
definition.  Thanks  to  the  former,  we  are  in  possession  of  a  most 
valuable  heuristic  principle.  We  owe  to  the  energic  conception 
the  possibility  of  dynamic  ideas  and  relationships,  which  are  of 
inestimable  value  for  us  in  the  chaos  of  the  psychic  world.  The 
Freudians  would  be  wrong  not  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  criticism, 
which  reproaches  our  conception  of  libido  with  mysticism  and 
inaccessibility.  We  deceived  ourselves  in  believing  that  we  could 
ever  make  the  libido  sexualis  the  bearer  of  the  energic  conception 
of  the  psychical  life,  and  if  many  of  Freud's  school  still  believe 
they  possess  a  well-defined  and  almost  complete  conception  of 
libido,  they  are  not  aware  that  this  conception  has  been  put  to  use 
far  beyond  the  bounds  of  its  sexual  definition.  The  critics  are 
right  when  they  object  to  our  theory  of  libido  as  explaining  things 
which  cannot  belong  to  its  sphere.  It  must  be  admitted  that 
Freud's  school  makes  use  of  a  conception  of  libido  which  passes 
beyond  the  bounds  of  its  primary  definition.  Indeed,  this  must 
produce  the  impression  that  one  is  working  with  a  mystical 
principle. 

THE  PROBLEM  OF  LIBIDO  IN  DEMENTIA  PR^COX 

I  have  sought  to  show  these  infringements  in  a  special  work, 
"Wandlungen  und  Symbole  der  Libido,"  and  at  the  same  time 
the  necessity  for  creating  a  new  conception  of  libido,  which  shall 
be  in  harmony  with  the  energic  conception.  Freud  himself  was 
forced  to  a  discussion  of  his  original  conception  of  libido  when 
he  tried  to  apply  its  energic  point  of  view  to  a  well-known  case 
of  dementia  praecox — the  so-called  Schreber  case.  In  this  case, 
we  had  to  deal,  among  other  things,  with  that  well-known  prob- 
lem in  the  psychology  of  dementia  prsecox,  the  loss  of  adapta- 
toin  to  reality,  the  peculiar  phenomenon  consisting  in  a  special 
tendency  of  these  patients  to  construct  an  inner  world  of  phan- 
tasy of  their  own,  surrendering  for  this  purpose  their  adapta- 


36  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

tion  to  reality.  As  a  part  of  the  phenomenon,  the  lack  of  socia- 
bility or  emotional  rapport  will  be  well  known  to  you  all,  this 
representing  a  striking  disturbance  of  the  function  of  reality. 
Through  considerable  psychological  study  of  these  patients  we 
discovered,  that  this  lack  of  adaptation  to  reality  is  compensated 
by  a  progressive  increase  in  the  creation  of  phantasies.  This 
goes  so  far  that  the  dream-world  is  for  the  patient  more  real  than 
external  reality.  The  patient  Schreber,  described  by  Freud, 
found  for  this  phenomenon  an  excellent  figurative  description  in 
his  delusion  of  the  "  end  of  the  world."  His  loss  of  reality  is  thus 
very  concretely  represented.  The  dynamic  conception  of  this 
phenomenon  is  very  clear.  We  say  that  the  libido  withdrew 
itself  more  and  more  from  the  external  world,  consequently 
entered  the  inner  world,  the  world  of  phantasies,  and  had  there 
to  create,  as  a  compensation  for  the  lost  external  world,  a  so- 
called  equivalent  of  reality.  This  compensation  is  built  up  piece 
by  piece,  and  it  is  most  interesting  to  observe  the  psychological 
materials  of  which  this  inner  world  is  composed.  This  way  of 
conceiving  the  transposition  and  displacement  of  the  libido  has 
been  made  by  the  every-day  use  of  the  term,  its  original  pure 
sexual  meaning  being  very  rarely  recalled.  In  general,  the  word 
"  libido  "  is  used  practically  in  so  harmless  a  sense  that  Claparede, 
in  a  conversation,  once  remarked  that  we  could  as  well  use  the 
word  "interest." 

The  manner  in  which  this  expression  is  generally  used  has 
given  rise  to  a  way  of  using  the  term  that  made  it  possible  to 
explain  Schreber's  "end  of  the  world"  by  withdrawal  of  the 
libido.  On  this  occasion,  Freud  recalled  his  original  sexual 
definition  of  the  libido,  and  tried  to  arrive  at  an  understanding 
with  the  change  which  in  the  meantime  had  taken  place.  In  his 
article  on  Schreber,  he  discusses  the  question,  whether  what  the 
psychoanalytic  school  calls  libido,  and  conceives  of  as  "interest 
from  erotic  sources"  coincides  with  interest  generally  speaking. 
You  see  that,  putting  the  problem  in  this  way,  Freud  asks  the 
question  which  Claparede  practically  answered.  Freud  discusses 
the  question  here,  whether  the  loss  of  reality  noticed  in  dementia 
praecox,  to  which  I  drew  attention  in  my  book,6  "  The  Psychology 
of  Dementia  Praecox,"  is  due  entirely  to  the  withdrawal  of  erotic 

6  No.  3  of  this  Monograph  Series. 


THE   CONCEPTION  OF  LIBIDO  37 

interest,  or  if  this  coincides  with  the  so-called  objective  interest 
in  general.  We  can  hardly  agree  that  the  normal  "  fonction  du 
reel"  [Janet]  is  only  maintained  through  erotic  interest.  The 
fact  is  that,  in  many  cases,  reality  vanishes  altogether,  and  not  a 
trace  of  psychological  adaptation  can  be  found  in  these  cases. 
Reality  is  repressed,  and  replaced  by  phantasies  created  through 
complexes.  We  are  forced  to  say  that  not  only  the  erotic 
interests,  but  interests  in  general — that  is,  the  whole  adaptation 
to  reality — are  lost.  I  formerly  tried,  in  my  "  Psychology  of 
Dementia  Praecox,"  to  get  out  of  this  difficulty  by  using  the  ex- 
pression "  psychic  energy,"  because  I  could  not  base  the  theory  of 
dementia  praecox  on  the  theory  of  transference  of  the  libido  in  its 
sexual  definition.  My  experience — at  that  time  chiefly  psychi- 
atric— did  not  permit  me  to  understand  this  theory.  Only  later 
did  I  learn  to  understand  the  correctness  of  the  theory  as  regards 
the  neuroses  by  increased  experience  in  hysteria  and  the  com- 
pulsion neurosis.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  an  abnormal  displace- 
ment of  libido,  quite  definitely  sexual,  does  play  a  great  part  in 
the  neuroses.  But  although  very  characteristic  repressions  of 
sexual  libido  do  take  place  in  certain  neuroses,  that  loss  of  reality, 
so  typical  for  dementia  praecox,  never  occurs.  In  dementia 
praecox,  so  extreme  is  the  loss  of  the  function  of  reality  that  this 
loss  must  also  entail  a  loss  of  motive  power,  to  which  any  sexual 
nature  must  be  absolutely  denied,  for  it  will  not  seem  to  anyone 
that  reality  is  a  sexual  function.  If  this  were  so,  the  withdrawal 
of  erotic  interests  in  the  neuroses  would  lead  to  a  loss  of  reality — 
a  loss  of  reality  indeed  that  could  be  compared  with  that  in 
dementia  praecox.  But,  as  I  said  before,  this  is  not  the  case. 
These  facts  have  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  transfer  Freud's 
libido  theory  to  dementia  praecox.  Hence,  my  view  is,  that  the 
attempt  made  by  Abraham,  in  his  article  "The  Psycho-Sexual 
Differences  Between  Hysteria  and  Dementia  Praecox,"  is  from 
the  standpoint  of  Freud's  conception  of  libido  theoretically  un- 
tenable. Abraham's  belief,  that  the  paranoidal  system,  or  the 
symptomatology  of  dementia  praecox,  arises  by  the  libido  with- 
drawing from  the  external  world,  cannot  be  justified  if  we  take 
"  libido "  according  to  Freud's  definition.  For,  as  Freud  has 
clearly  shown,  a  mere  introversion  or  regression  of  the  libido 
leads  always  to  a  neurosis,  and  not  to  dementia  praecox.  It  is 


38  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

impossible  to  transfer  the  libido  theory,  with  its  sexual  definition, 
directly  to  dementia  praecox,  as  this  disease  shows  a  loss  of  reality 
not  to  be  explained  by  the  deficiency  in  erotic  interests. 

It  gives  me  particular  satisfaction  that  our  master  also,  when 
he  placed  his  hand  on  the  fragile  material  of  paranoiac  psychol- 
ogy, felt  himself  compelled  to  doubt  the  applicability  of  his  con- 
ception of  libido  which  had  prevailed  hitherto.  My  position  of 
reserve  towards  the  ubiquity  of  sexuality  which  I  allowed  myself 
to  adopt  in  the  preface  to  my  "  Psychology  of  Dementia  Praecox  " 
— although  with  a  complete  recognition  of  the  psychological 
mechanism — was  dictated  by  the  conception  of  the  libido  theory 
of  that  time.  Its  sexual  definition  did  not  enable  me  to  explain 
those  disturbances  of  functions  which  affect  the  indefinite  sphere 
of  the  instinct  of  hunger,  just  as  much  as  they  do  those  of 
sexuality.  For  a  long  time  the  libido  theory  seemed  to  me  inap- 
plicable to  dementia  praecox. 

THE  GENETIC  CONCEPTION  OF  LIBIDO 

With  greater  experience  in  my  analytical  work,  I  noticed  that 
a  slow  change  of  my  conception  of  libido  had  taken  place.  A 
genetic  conception  of  libido  gradually  took  the  place  of  the 
descriptive  definition  of  libido  contained  in  Freud's  "Three 
Contributions."  Thus  it  became  possible  for  me  to  replace,  by 
the  expression  "  psychic  energy,"  the  term  libido.  The  next  step 
was  that  I  asked  myself  if  now-a-days  the  function  of  reality 
consists  only  to  a  very  small  extent  of  sexual  libido,  and  to  a 
very  large  extent  of  other  impulses.  It  is  still  a  very  important 
question,  considered  from  the  phylogenetic  standpoint,  whether 
the  function  of  reality  is  not,  at  least  very  largely,  of  sexual 
origin.  It  is  impossible  to  answer  this  question  directly,  in  so 
far  as  the  function  of  reality  is  concerned.  We  shall  try  to  come 
to  some  understanding  by  a  side-path. 

A  superficial  glance  at  the  history  of  evolution  suffices  to  teach 
us  that  innumerable  complicated  functions,  whose  sexual  char- 
acter must  be  denied,  are  originally  nothing  but  derivations  from 
the  instinct  of  propagation.  As  is  well  known,  there  has  been 
an  important  displacement  in  the  fundamentals  of  propagation 
during  the  ascent  through  the  animal  scale.  The  offspring  has 


THE  CONCEPTION  OF  LIBIDO  39 

been  reduced  in  number,  and  the  primitive  uncertainty  of  im- 
pregnation has  been  replaced  by  a  quite  assured  impregnation, 
and  a  more  effective  protection  of  offspring.  The  energy  required 
for  the  production  of  eggs  and  sperma  has  been  transferred  into 
the  creation  of  mechanisms  of  attraction,  and  mechanisms  for  the 
protection  of  offspring.  Here  we  find  the  first  instincts  of  art  in 
animals,  used  for  the  instinct  of  propagation,  and  limited  to  the 
rutting  season.  The  original  sexual  character  of  these  biological 
institutions  became  lost  with  their  organic  fixation,  and  their 
functional  independence.  None  the  less,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
as  to  their  sexual  origin,  as,  for  instance,  there  is  no  doubt  about 
the  original  relation  between  sexuality  and  music,  but  it  would 
be  a  generalization  as  futile,  as  unesthetic,  to  include  music  under 
the  category  of  sexuality.  Such  a  terminology  would  lead  to  the 
consideration  of  the  Cathedral  of  Cologne  under  mineralogy, 
because  it  has  been  built  with  stones.  Those  quite  ignorant  of 
the  problems  of  evolution  are  much  astonished  to  find  how  few 
things  there  are  in  human  life  which  cannot  finally  be  reduced  to 
the  instinct  of  propagation.  It  embraces  nearly  everything,  I 
think,  that  is  dear  and  precious  to  us. 

We  have  hitherto  spoken  of  the  libido  as  of  the  instinct  of 
reproduction,  or  the  instinct  of  the  preservation  of  the  species, 
and  limited  our  conception  to  that  libido  which  is  opposed  to 
hunger,  just  as  the  instinct  of  the  preservation  of  the  species  is 
opposed  to  that  of  self-preservation.  Of  course  in  nature  this 
artificial  distinction  does  not  exist.  Here  we  find  only  a  con- 
tinuous instinct  of  life,  a  will  to  live,  which  tries  to  obtain  the 
propagation  of  the  whole  race  by  the  preservation  of  the  indi- 
vidual. To  this  extent  this  conception  coincides  with  that  of 
Schopenhauer's  "will,"  as  objectively  we  can  only  conceive  a 
movement  as  a  manifestation  of  an  internal  desire.  As  we  have 
already  boldly  concluded  that  the  libido,  which  originally  sub- 
served the  creation  of  eggs  and  seed,  is  now  firmly  organized  in 
the  function  of  nest-building,  and  can  no  longer  be  employed 
otherwise,  we  are  similarly  obliged  to  include  in  this  conception 
every  desire,  hunger  no  less.  We  have  no  warrant  whatever  for 
differentiating  essentially  the  desire  to  build  nests  from  the 
desire  to  eat. 

I  think  you  will  already  understand  the  position  we  have 


4°  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

reached  with  these  considerations.  We  are  about  to  follow  up 
the  energic  conception  by  putting  the  energic  mode  of  action  in 
place  of  the  purely  formal  functioning.  Just  as  reciprocal  actions, 
well  known  in  the  old  natural  science,  have  been  replaced  by  the 
law  of  the  conservation  of  energy,  so  here  too,  in  the  sphere  of 
psychology,  we  seek  to  replace  the  reciprocal  activities  of  co- 
ordinated psychical  faculties  by  energy,  conceived  as  one  and 
homogeneous.  Thus  we  must  bow  to  the  criticism  which  re- 
proaches the  psychoanalytic  school  for  working  with  a  mystical 
conception  of  libido.  I  have  to  dispel  this  illusion  that  the  whole 
psychoanalytic  school  possesses  a  clearly  conceived  and  obvious 
conception  of  libido.  I  maintain  that  the  conception  of  libido 
with  which  we  are  working  is  not  only  not  concrete  or  known, 
but  is  an  unknown  X,  a  conceptual  image,  a  token,  and  no 
more  real  than  the  energy  in  the  conceptual  world  of  the  physicist. 
In  this  wise  only  can  we  escape  those  arbitrary  transgressions  of 
the  proper  boundaries,  which  are  always  made  when  we  want  to 
reduce  coordinated  forces  to  one  another.  Certain  analogies  of 
the  action  of  heat  with  the  action  of  light  are  not  to  be  explained 
by  saying  that  this  tertium  comparationis  proves  that  the  undula- 
tions of  heat  are  the  same  as  the  undulations  of  light;  the  con- 
ceptual image  of  energy  is  the  real  point  of  comparison.  If  we 
regard  libido  in  this  way  we  endeavor  to  simulate  the  progress 
which  has  already  been  made  in  physics.  The  economy  of 
thought  which  physics  has  already  obtained  we  strive  after  in 
our  libido  theory.  We  conceive  libido  now  simply  as  energy,  so 
that  we  are  in  the  position  to  figure  the  manifold  processes  as 
forms  of  energy.  Thus,  we  replace  the  old  reciprocal  action  by 
relations  of  absolute  equivalence.  We  shall  not  be  astonished 
if  we  are  met  with  the  cry  of  vitalism.  But  we  are  as  far 
removed  from  any  belief  in  a  specific  vital  power,  as  from  any 
other  metaphysical  assertion.  We  term  libido  that  energy  which 
manifests  itself  by  vital  processes,  which  is  subjectively  per- 
ceived as  aspiration,  longing  and  striving.  We  see  in  the  diver- 
sity of  natural  phenomena  the  desire,  the  libido,  in  the  most 
diverse  applications  and  forms.  In  early  childhood  we  find 
libido  at  first  wholly  in  the  form  of  the  instinct  of  nutrition,  pro- 
viding for  the  development  of  the  body.  As  the  body  develops, 
there  open  up,  successively,  new  spheres  of  influence  for  the 


THE   CONCEPTION  OF  LIBIDO  41 

libido.  The  last,  and,  from  its  functional  significance,  most  over- 
powering sphere  of  influence,  is  sexuality,  which  at  first  seems 
very  closely  connected  with  the  function  of  nutrition.  With  that 
you  may  compare  the  well-known  influence  on  propagation  of 
the  conditions  of  nutrition  in  the  lower  animals  and  plants. 

In  the  sphere  of  sexuality,  libido  does  take  that  form  whose 
enormous  importance  justifies  us  in  the  choice  of  the  term 
"  libido,"  in  its  strict  sexual  sense.  Here  for  the  first  time  libido 
appears  in  the  form  of  an  undifferentiated  sexual  primitive 
power,  as  an  energy  of  growth,  clearly  forcing  the  individual 
towards  division,  budding,  etc.  The  clearest  separation  of  the 
two  forms  of  libido  is  found  among  those  animals  where  the 
stage  of  nutrition  is  separated  by  the  pupa  stage  from  the  stage 
of  sexuality.  Out  of  this  sexual  primitive  power,  through  which 
one  small  creature  produces  millions  of  eggs  and  sperm,  deriva- 
tives have  been  developed  by  extraordinary  restriction  of  fecun- 
dity, the  functions  of  which  are  maintained  by  a  special  dif- 
ferentiated libido.  This  differentiated  libido  is  henceforth 
desexualized,  for  it  is  dissociated  from  its  original  function  of 
producing  eggs  and  sperm,  nor  is  there  any  possibility  of  restor- 
ing it  to  its  original  function.  The  whole  process  of  development 
consists  in  the  increasing  absorption  of  the  libido  which  only 
created,  originally,  products  of  generation  in  the  secondary  func- 
tions of  attraction,  and  protection  of  offspring.  This  develop- 
ment presupposes  a  quite  different  and  much  more  complicated 
relationship  to  reality,  a  true  function  of  reality  which  is  func- 
tionally inseparable  from  the  needs  of  reproduction.  Thus  the 
altered  mode  of  reproduction  involves  a  correspondingly  in- 
creased adaptation  to  reality.  This,  of  course,  does  not  imply 
that  the  function  of  reality  is  exclusively  due  to  differentiation 
in  reproduction.  I  am  aware  that  a  large  part  of  the  instinct  of 
nutrition  is  connected  with  it.  Thus  we  arrive  at  an  insight  into 
certain  primitive  conditions  of  the  function  of  reality.  It  would 
be  fundamentally  wrong  to  pretend  that  the  compelling  source 
is  still  a  sexual  one.  It  was  largely  a  sexual  one  originally.  The 
process  of  absorption  of  the  primitive  libido  into  secondary  func- 
tions certainly  always  took  place  in  the  form  of  so-called 
affluxes  of  sexual  libido  ("libidinose  Zuschiisse"). 

That  is  to  say,  sexuality  was  diverted  from  its  original  desti- 


42  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

nation,  a  definite  quantity  was  used  up  in  the  mechanisms  of 
mutual  attraction  and  of  protection  of  offspring.  This  trans- 
ference of  sexual  libido  from  the  sexual  sphere  to  associated  func- 
tions is  still  taking  place  (e.  g.,  modern  neo-Malthusianism  is  the 
artificial  continuation  of  the  natural  tendency).  We  call  this 
process  sublimation,  when  this  operation  occurs  without  injury  to 
the  adaptation  of  the  individual;  we  call  it  repression — when  the 
attempt  fails.  From  the  descriptive  standpoint  psychoanalysis 
accepts  the  multiplicity  of  instincts,  and,  among  them,  the  instinct 
of  sexuality  as  a  special  phenomenon,  moreover,  it  recognizes 
certain  affluxes  of  the  libido  to  asexual  instincts. 

From  the  genetic  standpoint  it  is  otherwise.  It  regards  the 
multiplicity  of  instincts  as  issuing  out  of  relative  unity,  the  primi- 
tive libido.  It  recognizes  that  definite  quantities  of  the  primitive 
libido  are  split  off,  associated  with  the  recently  created  functions, 
and  finally  merged  in  them.  From  this  standpoint  we  can  say, 
without  any  difficulty,  that  patients  with  dementia  praecox  with- 
draw their  "  libido  "  from  the  external  world  and  in  consequence 
suffer  a  loss  of  reality,  which  is  compensated  by  an  increase  of  the 
phantasy-building  activities. 

We  must  now  fit  the  new  conception  of  libido  into  that  theory 
of  sexuality  in  childhood  which  is  of  such  great  importance  in  the 
theory  of  neurosis.  Generally  speaking,  we  first  find  the  libido  as 
the  energy  of  vital  activities  acting  in  the  zone  of  the  function  of 
nutrition.  Through  the  rhythmical  movements  in  the  act  of 
sucking,  nourishment  is  taken  with  all  signs  of  satisfaction.  As 
the  individual  grows  and  his  organs  develop,  the  libido  creates 
new  ways  of  desire,  new  activities  and  satisfactions.  Now  the 
original  model — rhythmic  activity,  creating  pleasure  and  satis- 
faction— must  be  transferred  to  other  functions  which  have  their 
final  goal  in  sexuality. 

This  transition  is  not  made  suddenly  at  puberty,  but  it  takes 
place  gradually  throughout  the  course  of  the  greater  part  of  child- 
hood. The  libido  can  only  very  slowly  and  with  great  difficulty 
detach  itself  from  the  characteristics  of  the  function  of  nutrition, 
in  order  to  pass  over  into  the  characteristics  of  sexual  function. 
As  far  as  I  can  see,  we  have  two  epochs  during  this  transition, 
the  epoch  of  sucking  and  the  epoch  of  the  displaced  rhythmic 
activity.  Considered  solely  from  the  point  of  view  of  its  mode 


THE  CONCEPTION  OF  LIBIDO  43 

of  action,  sucking  clings  entirely  to  the  domain  of  the  function 
of  nutrition,  but  it  presents  also  a  far  wider  aspect,  it  is  no  mere 
function  of  nutrition,  it  is  a  rhythmical  activity,  with  its  goal  in  a 
pleasure  and  satisfaction  of  its  own,  distinct  from  the  obtaining 
of  nourishment.  The  hand  comes  into  play  as  an  accessory 
organ.  In  the  epoch  of  the  displaced  rhythmical  activity  it  stands 
out  still  more  as  an  accessory  organ,  when  the  oral  zone  ceases  to 
give  pleasure,  which  must  now  be  obtained  in  other  directions. 
The  possibilities  are  many.  As  a  rule  the  other  openings  of  the 
body  become  the  first  objects  of  interest  of  the  libido;  then  follow 
the  skin  in  general  and  certain  places  of  predilection  upon  it. 

The  actions  carried  out  at  these  places  generally  take  the  form 
of  rubbing,  piercing,  tugging,  etc.,  accompanied  by  a  certain 
rhythm,  and  serve  to  produce  pleasure.  After  a  halt  of  greater 
or  less  duration  at  these  stations,  the  libido  proceeds  until  it 
arrives  at  the  sexual  zone,  where  it  may  next  provoke  the  first 
onanistic  attempts.  During  its  "march,"  the  libido  carries  over 
not  a  little  from  the  function  of  nutrition  into  the  sexual  zone; 
this  readily  explains  the  numerous  close  associations  between  the 
function  of  nutrition  and  the  sexual  function. 

This  "  march  "  of  the  libido  takes  place  at  the  time  of  the  pre- 
sexual  stage,  which  is  characterized  by  the  fact  that  the  libido 
gradually  relinquishes  the  special  character  of  the  instinct  of 
nutrition,  and  by  degrees  acquires  the  character  of  the  sexual 
instinct.  At  this  stage  we  cannot  yet  speak  of  a  true  sexual 
libido.  Therefore  we  are  obliged  to  qualify  the  polymorphous 
perverse  sexuality  of  early  infancy  differently.  The  polymor- 
phism of  the  tendencies  of  the  libido  at  this  time  is  to  be  explained 
as  the  gradual  movement  of  the  libido  away  from  the  sphere  of 
the  function  of  nutrition  towards  the  sexual  function. 

The  Infantile  "Perversity" — Thus  rightly  vanishes  the  term 
"  perverse  " — so  strongly  contested  by  our  opponents — for  it  pro- 
vokes a  false  idea. 

When  a  chemical  body  breaks  up  into  its  elements,  these  ele- 
ments are  the  products  of  its  disintegration,  but  it  is  not  permis- 
sible on  that  account  to  describe  elements  as  entirely  products  of 
disintegration.  Perversities  are  disorders  of  fully-developed  sex- 
uality, but  are  never  precursors  of  sexuality,  although  there  is  un- 
doubtedly an  analogy  between  the  precursors  and  the  products  of 


44  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

disintegration.  The  childish  rudiments,  no  longer  to  be  conceived 
as  perverse,  but  to  be  regarded  as  stages  of  development,  change 
gradually  into  normal  sexuality,  as  the  normal  sexuality  develops. 
The  more  smoothly  the  libido  withdraws  from  its  provisional 
positions,  the  more  completely  and  the  more  quickly  does  the 
formation  of  normal  sexuality  take  place.  It  is  proper  to  the 
conception  of  normal  sexuality  that  all  those  early  infantile  incli- 
nations which  are  not  yet  sexual  should  be  given  up.  The  less 
this  is  the  case,  the  more  is  sexuality  threatened  with  perverse 
development.  The  expression  "perverse"  is  here  used  in  its 
right  place.  The  fundamental  condition  of  a  perversity  is  an 
infantile,  imperfectly  developed  state  of  sexuality. 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  ETIOLOGICAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  INFANTILE  SEXUALITY 

Now  that  we  have  decided  what  is  to  be  understood  as  infantile 
sexuality,  we  can  follow  up  the  discussion  of  the  theory  of  the 
neuroses,  which  we  began  in  the  first  lecture  and  then  dropped. 
We  followed  the  theory  of  the  neuroses  up  to  the  point  where  we 
ran  against  Freud's  statement,  that  the  tendency  which  brings  a 
traumatic  event  to  a  pathological  activity,  is  a  sexual  one.  From 
our  foregoing  considerations  we  understand  what  is  meant  by  a 
sexual  tendency.  It  is  a  standing  still,  a  retardation  in  that 
process  whereby  the  libido  frees  itself  from  the  manifestations 
of  the  pre-sexual  stage. 

First  of  all,  we  must  regard  this  disturbance  as  a  fixation. 
The  libido,  in  its  transition  from  the  function  of  nutrition  to  the 
sexual  function,  lingers  unduly  at  certain  stages.  A  disharmony 
is  created,  since  provisional  and,  as  it  were,  worn-out  activities, 
persist  at  a  period  when  they  should  have  been  overcome.  This 
formula  is  applicable  to  all  those  infantile  characteristics  so  prev- 
alent among  neurotic  people  that  no  attentive  observer  can  have 
overlooked  them.  In  dementia  prascox  it  is  so  obtrusive  that  a 
symptom  complex,  hebephrenia,  derives  its  name  therefrom. 

The  matter  is  not  ended,  however,  by  saying  that  the  libido 
lingers  in  the  preliminary  stages,  for  while  the  libido  thus  lingers, 
time  does  not  stand  still,  and  the  development  of  the  individual  is 
always  proceeding  apace.  The  physical  maturation  increases  the 
contrast  and  the  disharmony  between  the  persistent  infantile  mani- 
festations, and  the  demands  of  the  later  age,  with  its  changed 
conditions  of  life.  In  this  way  the  foundation  is  laid  for  the  dis- 
sociation of  the  personality,  and  thereby  to  that  conflict  which  is 
the  real  basis  of  the  neuroses.  The  more  the  libido  is  in  arrears 
in  practice,  the  more  intense  will  be  the  conflict.  The  traumatic 
or  pathogenic  moment  is  the  one  which  serves  best  to  make  this 
conflict  manifest.  As  Freud  showed  in  his  earlier  works,  one  can 
easily  imagine  a  neurosis  arising  in  this  way. 

4  45 


46  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

This  conception  fitted  in  rather  well  with  the  views  of  Janet, 
who  ascribed  neurosis  to  a  certain  defect.  From  this  point  of 
view  the  neurosis  could  be  regarded  as  a  product  of  retarda- 
tion in  the  development  of  affectivity;  and  I  can  easily  imagine 
that  this  conception  must  seem  self  evident  to  every  one  who  is 
inclined  to  derive  the  neuroses  more  or  less  directly  from  heredity 
or  congenital  degeneration. 

THE  INFANTILE  SEXUAL  ETIOLOGY  CRITICIZED 
Unfortunately  the  reality  is  much  more  complicated.  Let  me 
facilitate  an  insight  into  these  complications  by  an  example  of  a 
case  of  hysteria.  It  will,  I  hope,  enable  me  to  demonstrate  the 
characteristic  complication,  so  important  for  the  theory  of  neu- 
rosis. You  will  probably  remember  the  case  of  the  young  lady 
with  hysteria,  whom  I  mentioned  at  the  beginning  of  my  lectures. 
We  noticed  the  remarkable  fact  that  this  patient  was  unaffected 
by  situations  which  one  might  have  expected  to  make  a  profound 
impression  and  yet  showed  an  unexpected  extreme  pathological 
reaction  to  a  quite  everyday  event.  We  took  this  occasion  to 
express  our  doubt  as  to  the  etiological  significance  of  the  shock, 
and  to  investigate  the  so-called  predisposition  which  rendered  the 
trauma  effective.  The  result  of  that  investigation  led  us  to  what 
has  just  been  mentioned,  that  it  is  by  no  means  improbable  that 
the  origin  of  the  neurosis  is  due  to  a  retardation  of  the  affective 
development. 

You  will  now  ask  me  what  is  to  be  understood  by  the  retarda- 
tion of  the  affectivity  of  this  hysteric.  The  patient  lives  in  a 
world  of  phantasy,  which  can  only  be  regarded  as  infantile.  It  is 
unnecessary  to  give  a  description  of  these  phantasies,  for  you,  as 
neurologists  or  psychiatrists,  have  the  opportunity  daily  to  listen 
to  the  childish  prejudices,  illusions  and  emotional  pretensions  to 
which  neurotic  people  give  way.  The  disinclination  to  face  stern 
reality  is  the  distinguishing  trait  of  these  phantasies — some  lack 
of  earnestness,  some  trifling,  which  sometimes  hides  real  diffi- 
culties in  a  light-hearted  manner,  at  others  exaggerates  trifles  into 
great  troubles.  We  recognize  at  once  that  inadequate  psychic 
attitude  towards  reality  which  characterizes  the  child,  its  wavering 
opinions  and  its  deficient  orientation  in  matters  of  the  external 
world.  With  such  an  infantile  mental  disposition  all  kinds  of  de- 


ETIOLOGICAL    SIGNIFICANCE    OF    INFANTILE    SEXUALITY          47 

sires,  phantasies  and  illusions  can  grow  luxuriantly,  and  this  we 
have  to  regard  as  the  critical  causation.  Through  such  phantasies 
people  slip  into  an  unreal  attitude,  preeminently  ill-adapted  to  the 
world,  which  is  bound  some  day  to  lead  to  a  catastrophe.  When 
we  trace  back  the  infantile  phantasy  of  the  patient  to  her  earliest 
childhood  we  find,  it  is  true,  many  distinct,  outstanding  scenes 
which  might  well  serve  to  provide  fresh  food  for  this  or  that 
variation  in  phantasy,  but  it  would  be  vain  to  search  for  the  so- 
called  traumatic  motive,  whence  something  abnormal  might  have 
sprung,  such  an  abnormal  activity,  let  us  say,  as  day-dreaming 
itself.  There  are  certainly  to  be  found  traumatic  scenes,  although 
not  in  earliest  childhood;  the  few  scenes  of  earliest  childhood 
which  were  remembered  seem  not  to  be  traumatic,  being  rather 
accidental  events,  which  passed  by  without  leaving  any  effect  on 
her  phantasy  worth  mentioning.  The  earliest  phantasies  arose 
out  of  all  sorts  of  vague  and  only  partly  understood  impressions 
received  from  her  parents.  Many  peculiar  feelings  centered 
around  her  father,  vacillating  between  anxiety,  horror,  aversion, 
disgust,  love  and  enthusiasm.  The  case  was  like  so  many  other 
cases  of  hysteria,  where  no  traumatic  etiology  can  be  found,  but 
which  grows  from  the  roots  of  a  peculiar  and  premature  activity 
of  phantasy  which  maintains  permanently  the  character  of  in- 
fantilism. 

You  will  object  that  in  this  case  the  scene  with  the  shying 
horses  represents  the  trauma.  It  is  clearly  the  model  of  that 
night-scene  which  happened  nineteen  years  later,  where  the 
patient  was  incapable  of  avoiding  the  trotting  horses.  That  she 
wanted  to  plunge  into  the  river  has  an  analogy  in  the  model  scene, 
where  the  horses  and  carriage  fell  into  the  river. 

Since  the  latter  traumatic  moment  she  suffered  from  hysterical 
fits.  As  I  tried  to  show  you,  we  do  not  find  any  trace  of  this 
apparent  etiology  developed  in  the  course  of  her  phantasy  life. 
It  seems  as  if  the  danger  of  losing  her  life,  that  first  time,  when 
the  horses  shied,  passed  without  leaving  any  emotional  trace. 
None  of  the  events  that  occurred  in  the  following  years  showed 
any  trace  of  that  fright.  In  parenthesis  let  me  add,  that  perhaps 
it  never  happened  at  all.  It  may  have  even  been  a  mere  phantasy, 
for  I  have  only  the  assertions  of  the  patient.  All  of  a  sudden, 
some  eighteen  years  later,  this  event  becomes  of  importance  and 


48  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

is,  so  to  say,  reproduced  and  carried  out  in  all  its  details.  This 
assumption  is  extremely  unlikely,  and  becomes  still  more  incon- 
ceivable if  we  also  bear  in  mind  that  the  story  of  the  shying 
horses  may  not  even  be  true.  Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is  and  remains 
almost  unthinkable  that  an  affect  should  remain  buried  for  years 
and  then  suddenly  explode.  In  other  cases  there  is  exactly  the 
same  state  of  affairs.  I  know,  for  instance,  of  a  case  in  which 
the  shock  of  an  earthquake,  long  recovered  from,  suddenly  came 
back  as  a  lively  fear  of  earthquakes,  although  this  reminiscence 
could  not  be  explained  by  the  external  circumstances. 

THE  TRAUMATIC  THEORY — A  FALSE  WAY 

It  is  a  very  suspicious  circumstance  that  these  patients  fre- 
quently show  a  pronounced  tendency  to  account  for  their  illnesses 
by  some  long-past  event,  ingeniously  withdrawing  the  attention  of 
the  physician  from  the  present  moment  towards  some  false  track 
in  the  past.  This  false  track  was  the  first  one  pursued  by  the 
psychoanalytic  theory.  To  this  false  hypothesis  we  owe  an  in- 
sight into  the  understanding  of  the  neurotic  symptoms  never 
before  reached,  an  insight  we  should  not  have  gained  if  the  inves- 
tigation had  not  chosen  this  path,  really  guided  thither,  however, 
by  the  misleading  tendencies  of  the  patient. 

I  think  that  only  a  man  who  regards  world-happenings  as  a 
chain  of  more  or  less  fortuitous  contingencies,  and  therefore  be- 
lieves that  the  guiding  hand  of  the  reason-endowed  pedagogue  is 
permanently  wanted,  can  ever  imagine  that  this  path,  upon  which 
the  patient  leads  the  physician,  has  been  a  wrong  one,  from  which 
one  ought  to  have  warned  men  off  with  a  sign-board.  Besides 
the  deeper  insight  into  psychological  determination,  we  owe  to  the 
so-called  error  the  discovery  of  questions  of  immeasurable  im- 
portance regarding  the  basis  of  psychic  processes.  It  is  for  us  to 
rejoice  and  be  thankful  that  Freud  had  the  courage  to  let  himself 
be  guided  along  this  path.  Not  thus  is  the  progress  of  science 
hindered,  but  rather  through  blind  adherence  to  a  provisional 
formulation,  through  the  typical  conservatism  of  authority,  the 
vanity  of  learned  men,  their  fear  of  making  mistakes.  This  lack 
of  the  martyr's  courage  is  far  more  injurious  to  the  credit  and 
greatness  of  scientific  knowledge  than  an  honest  error. 


ETIOLOGICAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  INFANTILE  SEXUALITY       49 

RETARDATION  OF  THE  EMOTIONAL  DEVELOPMENT 

But  let  us  return  to  our  own  case.  The  following  question 
arises:  If  the  old  trauma  is  not  of  etiological  significance,  then 
the  cause  of  the  manifest  neurosis  is  probably  to  be  found  in  the 
retardation  of  the  emotional  development.  We  must  therefore 
disregard  the  patient's  assertion  that  her  hysterical  crises  date 
from  the  fright  from  the  shying  horses,  although  this  fright  was 
in  fact  the  beginning  of  her  evident  illness.  This  event  only 
seems  to  be  important,  although  it  is  not  so  in  reality.  This  same 
formula  is  valid  for  all  the  so-called  shocks.  They  only  seem  to 
be  important  because  they  are  the  starting-point  of  the  external 
expression  of  an  abnormal  condition.  As  explained  in  detail, 
this  abnormal  condition  is  an  anachronistic  continuation  of  an 
infantile  stage  of  libido-development.  These  patients  still  retain 
forms  of  the  libido  which  they  ought  to  have  renounced  long  ago. 
It  is  impossible  to  give  a  list,  as  it  were,  of  these  forms,  for  they 
are  of  an  extraordinary  variety.  The  most  common,  which  is 
scarcely  ever  absent,  is  the  excessive  activity  of  phantasies,  char- 
acterized by  an  unconcerned  exaggeration  of  subjective  wishes. 
This  exaggerated  activity  is  always  a  sign  of  want  of  proper  em- 
ployment of  the  libido.  The  libido  sticks  fast  to  its  use  in  phan- 
tasies, instead  of  being  employed  in  a  more  rigorous  adaptation  to 
the  real  conditions  of  life. 

INTROVERSION 

This  state  is  called  the  state  of  introversion,  the  libido  is  used 
for  the  psychical  inner  world  instead  of  being  applied  to  the  ex- 
ternal world.  A  regular  attendant  symptom  of  this  retardation 
in  the  emotional  development  is  the  so-called  parent-complex.  If 
the  libido  is  not  used  entirely  for  the  adaptation  to  reality,  it  is 
always  more  or  less  introverted.  The  material  content  of  the 
psychic  world  is  composed  of  reminiscences,  giving  it  a  vividness 
of  activity  which  in  reality  long  since  ceased  to  pertain  thereto. 
The  consequence  is,  that  these  patients  still  live  more  or  less  in  a 
world  which  in  truth  belongs  to  the  past.  They  fight  with  diffi- 
culties which  once  played  a  part  in  their  life,  but  which  ought  to 
have  been  obliterated  long  ago.  They  still  grieve  over  matters,  or 
rather  they  are  still  concerned  with  matters,  which  should  have 


50  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

long  ago  lost  their  importance  for  them.  They  divert  themselves, 
or  distress  themselves,  with  images  which  were  once  normally  of 
importance  for  them  but  are  of  no  significance  at  their  later  age. 

THE  COMPLEX  OF  THE  PARENTS 

Amongst  those  influences  most  important  during  childhood, 
the  personalities  of  the  parents  play  the  most  potent  part.  Even 
if  the  parents  have  long  been  dead,  and  might  and  should  have 
lost  all  real  importance,  since  the  life-conditions  of  the  patients 
are  perhaps  totally  changed,  yet  these  parents  are  still  somehow 
present  and  as  important  as  if  they  were  still  alive.  Love  and 
admiration,  resistance,  repugnance,  hate  and  revolt,  still  cling  to 
their  figures,  transfigured  by  affection  and  very  often  bearing 
little  resemblance  to  the  past  reality.  It  was  this  fact  which 
forced  me  to  talk  no  longer  of  father  and  mother  directly,  but  to 
employ  instead  the  term  "image"  (imago)  of  mother  or  of 
father  for  these  phantasies  no  longer  deal  with  the  real  father 
and  the  real  mother,  but  with  the  subjective,  and  very  often  com- 
pletely altered  creations  of  the  imagination  which  prolong  an 
existence  only  in  the  patient's  mind. 

The  complex  of  the  parents'  images,  that  is  to  say,  the  sum  of 
ideas  connected  with  the  parents,  provides  an  important  field  of 
employment  for  the  introverted  libido.  I  must  mention  in  pass- 
ing that  the  complex  has  in  itself  but  a  shadowy  existence  in  so 
far  as  it  is  not  invested  with  libido.  Following  the  usage  that 
we  arrived  at  in  the  "  Diagnostische  Associationsstudien,"  the 
word  "  complex "  is  used  for  a  system  of  ideas  already  invested 
with,  and  actuated  by,  libido.  This  system  exists  as  a  mere  possi- 
bility, ready  for  application,  if  not  invested  with  libido  either 
temporarily  or  permanently. 

The  "  Nucleus  "-Complex. — At  the  time  when  the  psycho- 
analytic theory  was  still  under  the  dominance  of  the  trauma  con- 
•ception  and,  in  conformity  with  that  view,  inclined  to  look  for 
the  causa  efficiens  of  the  neurosis  in  the  past,  the  parent-complex 
seemed  to  us  to  be  the  so-called  root-complex — to  employ  Freud's 
term — or  nucleus-complex  ( "  Kerncomplex  "  ) . 

The  part  which  the  parents  played  seemed  to  be  so  highly 
determining  that  we  were  inclined  to  attribute  to  them  all  later 
complications  in  the  life  of  the  patient.  Some  years  ago  I  dis- 


ETIOLOGICAL    SIGNIFICANCE   OF    INFANTILE    SEXUALITY          51 

cussed  this  view  in  my  article7  "  Die  Bedeutung  des  Vaters  i iir 
das  Schicksal  des  Einzelnen."  (The  importance  of  the  father  for 
the  fate  of  the  individual.) 

Here  also  we  were  guided  by  the  patient's  tendency  to  revert 
to  the  past,  in  accordance  with  the  direction  of  his  introverted 
libido.  Now  indeed  it  was  no  longer  the  external,  accidental 
event  which  caused  the  pathogenic  effect,  but  a  psychological 
effect  which  seemed  to  arise  out  of  the  individual's  difficulties  in 
adapting  himself  to  the  conditions  of  his  familiar  surroundings. 
It  was  especially  the  disharmony  between  the  parents  on  the  one 
hand  and  between  the  child  and  the  parents  on  the  other  which 
seemed  favorable  for  creating  currents  in  the  child  little  com- 
patible with  his  individual  course  of  life.  In  the  article  just 
alluded  to  I  have  described  some  instances,  taken  from  a  wealth 
of  material,  which  show  these  characteristics  very  distinctly.  The 
influence  of  the  parents  does  not  come  to  an  end,  alas,  with  their 
neurotic  descendants'  blame  of  the  family  circumstances,  or  their 
false  education,  as  the  basis  of  their  illness,  but  it  extends  even 
to  certain  actual  events  in  the  life  and  actions  of  the  patient, 
where  such  a  determining  influence  could  not  have  been  expected. 
The  lively  imitativeness  which  we  find  in  savages  as  well  as  in 
children  can  produce  in  certain  rather  sensitive  children  a 
peculiar  inner  and  unconscious  identification  with  the  parents; 
that  is  to  say,  such  a  similar  mental  attitude  that  effects  in  real 
life  are  sometimes  produced  which,  even  in  detail,  resemble  the 
personal  experiences  of  the  parents.  For  the  empirical  material 
here,  I  must  refer  you  to  the  literature.  I  should  like  to  remind 
you  that  one  of  my  pupils,  Dr.  Emma  Furst,  produced  valuable 
experimental  proofs  for  the  solution  of  this  problem,  to  which 
I  referred  in  my  lecture  at  Clark  University.8  In  applying 
association  experiments  to  whole  families,  Dr.  Furst  established 
the  great  resemblance  of  reaction-type  among  all  the  members 
of  one  family. 

These  experiments  show  that  there  very  often  exists  an  un- 
conscious parallelism  of  association  between  parents  and  children, 
to  be  explained  as  an  intense  imitation  or  identification. 

7  Jahrbuch   fur  psychoanalytische  und  psychopathologisch   Forschun- 
gen,  Bd.  I. 

8  Am.  Jour.  Psychol.,  April,  1910. 


52  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

The  results  of  these  investigations  show  far-reaching  psycho- 
logical tendencies  in  parallel  directions,  which  readily  explain 
at  times  the  astonishing  conformity  in  their  destinies.  Our 
destinies  are  as  a  rule  the  result  of  our  psychological  tendencies. 
These  facts  allow  us  to  understand  why,  not  only  the  patient,  but 
even  the  theory  which  has  been  built  on  such  investigations, 
expresses  the  view,  that  the  neurosis  is  the  result  of  the  char- 
acteristic influence  of  the  parents,  upon  their  children.  This 
view,  moreover,  is  supported  by  the  experiences  which  lie  at  the 
basis  of  pedagogy:  namely  the  assumption  of  the  plasticity  of 
the  child's  mind,  which  is  freely  compared  with  soft  wax. 

We  know  that  the  first  impressions  of  childhood  accompany 
us  throughout  life,  and  that  certain  educational  influences  may 
restrain  people  undisturbed  all  their  lives  within  certain  limits. 
It  is  no  miracle,  indeed  it  is  rather  a  frequent  experience,  that 
under  these  circumstances  a  conflict  has  to  break  out  between  the 
personality  which  is  formed  by  the  educational  and  other  influ- 
ences of  the  infantile  milieu  and  that  one  which  can  be  described 
as  the  real  individual  line  of  life.  With  this  conflict  all  people 
must  meet,  who  are  called  upon  to  live  an  independent  and 
productive  life. 

Owing  to  the  enormous  influence  of  childhood  on  the  later 
development  of  character,  you  can  perfectly  understand  why  we 
are  inclined  to  ascribe  the  cause  of  a  neurosis  directly  to  the 
influences  of  the  infantile  environment.  I  have  to  confess  that  I 
have  known  cases  in  which  any  other  explanation  seemed  to  be 
less  reasonable.  There  are  indeed  parents  whose  own  contra- 
dictory neurotic  behavior  causes  them  to  treat  their  children  in 
such  an  unreasonable  way  that  the  latter's  deterioration  and  ill- 
ness would  seem  to  be  unavoidable.  Hence  it  is  almost  a  rule 
among  nerve-specialists  to  remove  neurotic  children,  whenever 
possible,  from  the  dangerous  family  atmosphere,  and  to  send 
them  among  more  healthy  influences,  where,  without  any  medical 
treatment,  they  thrive  much  better  than  at  home.  There  are 
many  neurotic  patients  who  were  clearly  neurotic  as  children, 
and  who  have  never  been  free  from  illness.  For  such  cases,  the 
conception  which  has  been  sketched  holds  generally  good. 

This  knowledge,  which  seems  to  be  provisionally  definitive, 
has  been  extended  by  the  studies  of  Freud  and  the  psychoanalytic 


ETIOLOGICAL    SIGNIFICANCE    OF    INFANTILE    SEXUALITY          53 

school.  The  relations  between  the  patients  and  their  parents  have 
been  studied  in  detail  in  as  much  as  these  relations  were  regarded 
as  of  etiological  significance. 

INFANTILE  MENTAL  ATTITUDE 

It  was  soon  noticed  that  such  patients  lived  still  partly  or 
wholly  in  their  childhood-world,  although  quite  unconscious 
themselves  of  this  fact.  It  is  a  difficult  task  for  psychoanalysis 
so  exactly  to  investigate  the  psychological  mode  of  adaptation  of 
the  patients  as  to  be  capable  of  putting  its  finger  on  the  infantile 
misunderstanding.  We  find  among  neurotics  many  who  have 
been  spoiled  as  children.  These  cases  give  the  best  and  clearest 
example  of  the  infantilism  of  their  psychological  mode  of  adapta- 
tion. They  start  out  in  life  expecting  the  same  friendly  reception, 
tenderness  and  easy  success,  obtained  with  no  trouble,  to  which 
they  have  been  accustomed  by  their  parents  in  their  youth.  Even 
very  intelligent  patients  are  not  capable  of  seeing  at  once  that  they 
owe  the  complications  of  their  life  and  their  neurosis  to  the  trail 
of  their  infantile  emotional  attitude.  The  small  world  of  the 
child,  the  familiar  surroundings — these  form  the  model  of  the 
big  world.  The  more  intensely  the  family  has  stamped  the  child, 
the  more  will  it  be  inclined,  as  an  adult,  instinctively  to  see  again 
in  the  great  world  its  former  small  world.  Of  course  this  must 
not  be  taken  as  a  conscious  intellectual  process.  On  the  contrary, 
the  patient  feels  and  sees  the  difference  between  now  and  then, 
and  tries  to  adapt  himself  as  well  as  he  can.  Perhaps  he  will  even 
believe  himself  perfectly  adapted,  for  he  grasps  the  situation 
intellectually,  but  that  does  not  prevent  the  emotional  from  being 
far  behind  the  intellectual  standpoint. 

UNCONSCIOUS  PHANTASY 

It  is  unnecessary  to  trouble  you  with  instances  of  this  phe- 
nomenon. It  is  an  every-day  experience  that  our  emotions  are 
never  at  the  level  of  our  reasoning.  It  is  exactly  the  same  with 
such  a  patient,  only  with  greater  intensity.  He  may  perhaps  be- 
lieve that,  save  for  his  neurosis,  he  is  a  normal  person,  and  hence 
adapted  to  the  conditions  of  life.  He  does  not  suspect  that  he 
has  not  relinquished  certain  childish  pretensions,  that  he  still 


54  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

carries  with  him,  in  the  background,  expectations  and  illusions 
which  he  has  never  rendered  conscious  to  himself.  He  cultivates 
all  sorts  of  favorite  phantasies,  which  seldom  become  conscious, 
or  at  any  rate,  not  very  often,  so  that  he  himself  does  not  know 
that  he  has  them.  They  very  often  exist  only  as  emotional  ex- 
pectations, hopes,  prejudices,  etc.  We  call  these  phantasies,  un- 
conscious phantasies.  Sometimes  they  dip  into  the  peripheral 
consciousness  as  quite  fugitive  thoughts,  which  disappear  again  a 
moment  later,  so  that  the  patient  is  unable  to  say  whether  he  had 
such  phantasies  or  not.  It  is  only  during  the  psychoanalytic 
treatment  that  most  patients  learn  to  observe  and  retain  these 
fleeting  thoughts.  Although  most  of  the  phantasies,  once  at 
least,  have  been  conscious  in  the  form  of  fleeting  thoughts  and 
only  afterwards  became  unconscious,  we  have  no  right  to  call 
them  on  that  account  "  conscious,"  as  they  are  practically  most  of 
the  time  unconscious.  It  is  therefore  right  to  designate  them 
"unconscious  phantasies."  Of  course  there  are  also  infantile 
phantasies,  which  are  perfectly  conscious  and  which  can  be  re- 
produced at  any  time. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  sphere  of  the  unconscious  infantile  phantasies  has  be- 
come the  real  object  of  psychoanalytic  investigation.  As  we  have 
previously  pointed  out,  this  domain  seems  to  retain  the  key  to  the 
etiology  of  neurosis.  In  contradistinction  with  the  trauma 
theory,  we  are  forced  by  the  reasons  already  adduced  to  seek  in 
the  family  history  for  the  basis  of  our  present  psychoanalytic 
attitude.  Those  phantasy-systems  which  patients  exhibit  on  mere 
questioning  are  for  the  most  part  composed  and  elaborated  like 
a  novel  or  a  drama.  Although  they  are  greatly  elaborated,  they 
are  relatively  of  little  value  for  the  investigation  of  the  uncon- 
scious. Just  because  they  are  conscious,  they  have  already  de- 
ferred over-much  to  the  claims  of  etiquette  and  social  morality. 
Hence  they  have  been  purged  of  all  personally  painful  and  ugly 
details,  and  are  presentable  to  society,  revealing  very  little.  The 
valuable,  and  much  more  important  phantasies  are  not  conscious 
in  the  sense  already  defined,  but  are  to  be  discovered  through  the 
technique  of  psychoanalysis. 

Without  wishing  to  enter  fully  into  the  question  of  technique, 
I  must  here  meet  an  objection  that  is  constantly  heard.  It  is  that 
the  so-called  unconscious  phantasies  are  only  suggested  to  the 
patient  and  only  exist  in  the  minds  of  psychoanalysts.  This  ob- 
jection belongs  to  that  common  class  which  ascribes  to  them  the 
crude  mistakes  of  beginners.  I  think  only  those  without  psycho- 
logical experience  and  without  historical  psychological  knowledge 
are  capable  of  making  such  criticisms.  With  a  mere  glimmering 
of  mythological  knowledge,  one  cannot  fail  to  notice  the  striking 
parallels  between  the  unconscious  phantasies  discovered  by  the 
psychoanalytic  school  and  mythological  images.  The  objection 
that  our  knowledge  of  mythology  has  been  suggested  to  the  patient 
is  groundless,  for  the  psychoanalytic  school  first  discovered  the 
unconscious  phantasies,  and  only  then  became  acquainted  with 
mythology.  Mythology  itself  is  obviously  something  outside  the 
path  of  the  medical  man.  In  so  far  as  these  phantasies  are  un- 

55 


56  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

conscious,  the  patient  of  course  knows  nothing  about  their  exist- 
ence, and  it  would  be  absurd  to  make  direct  inquiries  about  them. 
Nevertheless  it  is  often  said,  both  by  patients  and  by  so-called 
normal  persons :  "  But  if  I  had  such  phantasies,  surely  I  would 
know  something  about  them."  But  what  is  unconscious  is,  in 
fact,  something  which  one  does  not  know.  The  opposition  too 
is  perfectly  convinced  that  such  things  as  unconscious  phantasies 
could  not  exist.  This  a  priori  judgment  is  scholasticism,  and  has 
no  sensible  grounds.  We  cannot  possibly  rest  on  the  dogma  that 
consciousness  only  is  mind,  when  we  can  convince  ourselves  daily 
that  our  consciousness  is  only  the  stage.  When  the  contents  of 
our  consciousness  appear  they  are  already  in  a  highly  complex 
form;  the  grouping  of  our  thoughts  from  the  elements  supplied 
by  our  memory  is  almost  entirely  unconscious.  Therefore  we 
are  obliged,  whether  we  like  it  or  not,  to  accept  for  the  moment 
the  conception  of  an  unconscious  psychic  sphere,  even  if  only  as 
a  mere  negative,  border-conception,  just  as  Kant's  "thing  in 
itself."  As  we  perceive  things  which  do  not  have  their  origin  in 
consciousness,  we  are  obliged  to  give  hypothetic  contents  to  the 
sphere  of  the  non-conscious.  We  must  suppose  that  the  origin 
of  certain  effects  lies  in  the  unconscious,  just  because  they  are 
not  conscious.  The  reproach  of  mysticism  can  scarcely  be  made 
against  this  conception  of  the  unconscious.  We  do  not  pretend 
that  we  know  anything  positive,  or  can  affirm  anything,  about  the 
psychic  condition  of  the  unconscious.  Instead,  we  have  sub- 
stituted symbols  by  following  the  way  of  designation  and  ab- 
straction we  apply  in  consciousness. 

On  the  axiom:  Principia  praeter  necessitatem  non  sunt  multi- 
plicanda,  this  kind  of  ideation  is  the  only  possible  one.  Hence 
we  speak  about  the  effects  of  the  unconscious,  just  as  we  do 
about  the  phenomena  of  the  conscious.  Many  people  have  been 
shocked  by  Freud's  statement :  "  The  unconscious  can  only  wish," 
and  this  is  regarded  as  an  unheard  of  metaphysical  assertion, 
something  like  the  principle  of  Hartman's  "  Philosophy  of  the 
Unconscious,"  which  apparently  administers  a  rebuff  to  the 
theory  of  cognition.  This  indignation  only  arises  from  the  fact 
that  the  critics,  unknown  to  themselves,  evidently  start  from  a 
metaphysical  conception  of  the  unconscious  as  being  an  "  end  per 
se,"  and  naively  project  on  to  us  their  inadequate  conception  of 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  57 

the  unconscious.  For  us,  the  unconscious  is  no  entity,  but  a 
term,  about  whose  metaphysical  entity  we  do  not  permit  our- 
selves to  form  any  idea.  Here  we  contrast  with  those  psycholo- 
gists, who,  sitting  at  their  desks,  are  as  exactly  informed  about 
the  localization  of  the  mind  in  the  brain  as  they  are  informed 
about  the  psychological  correlation  of  the  mental  processes. 
Whence  they  are  able  to  declare  positively  that  beyond  the  con- 
sciousness there  are  but  physiological  processes  of  the  cortex. 
Such  naivete  must  not  be  imputed  to  the  psychoanalyst.  When 
Freud  says :  "  We  can  only  wish,"  he  describes  in  symbolic  terms 
effects  of  which  the  origin  is  not  known.  From  the  standpoint 
of  our  conscious  thinking,  these  effects  can  only  be  considered  as 
analogous  to  wishes.  The  psychoanalytic  school  is,  moreover, 
aware  that  the  discussion  as  to  whether  "wishing"  is  a  sound 
analogy  can  be  re-opened  at  any  time.  Anyone  who  has  more 
information  is  welcome.  Instead,  the  opponents  content  them- 
selves with  denial  of  the  phenomena,  or  if  certain  phenomena  are 
admitted,  they  abstain  from  all  theoretical  speculation.  This  last 
point  is  readily  to  be  understood,  for  it  is  not  everyone's  business 
to  think  theoretically.  Even  the  man  who  has  succeeded  in  free- 
ing himself  from  the  dogma  of  the  identity  of  the  conscious  self 
and  the  psyche,  thus  admitting  the  possible  existence  of  psychic 
processes  outside  the  conscious,  is  not  justified  in  disputing  or 
maintaining  psychic  possibilities  in  the  unconscious.  The  ob- 
jection is  raised  that  the  psychoanalytic  school  maintains  certain 
views  without  sufficient  grounds,  as  if  the  literature  did  not 
contain  abundant,  perhaps  too  abundant,  discussion  of  cases,  and 
more  than  enough  arguments.  But  they  seem  not  to  be  sufficient 
for  the  opponents.  There  must  be  a  good  deal  of  difference  as 
to  the  meaning  of  the  term  "  sufficient "  in  respect  to  the  validity 
of  the  arguments.  The  question  is:  "Why  does  the  psycho- 
analytic school  apparently  set  less  store  on  the  proof  of  their 
formuals  than  the  critics?"  The  reason  is  very  simple.  An 
engineer  who  has  built  a  bridge,  and  has  worked  out  its  bearing 
capacity,  wants  no  other  proof  for  the  success  of  its  bearing 
power.  But  the  ordinary  man,  who  has  no  notion  how  a  bridge 
is  built,  or  what  is  the  strength  of  the  material  used,  will  demand 
quite  different  proofs  as  to  the  bearing  capacity  of  the  bridge, 
for  he  has  no  confidence  in  the  business.  In  the  first  place,  it  is 


58  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

the  critics'  complete  ignorance  of  what  is  being  done  which  pro- 
vokes their  demand.  In  the  second  place,  there  are  the  unanswer- 
able theoretical  misunderstandings:  impossible  for  us  to  know 
them  all  and  understand  them  all.  Just  as  we  find,  again  and 
again,  in  our  patients  new  and  astonishing  misunderstandings 
about  the  ways  and  the  aim  of  the  psychoanalytic  method,  so  are 
the  critics  inexhaustible  in  devising  misunderstandings.  You  can 
see  in  the  discussion  of  our  conception  of  the  unconscious  what 
kind  of  false  philosophical  assumptions  can  prevent  the  under- 
standing of  our  terminology.  It  is  comprehensible  that  those 
who  attribute  to  the  unconscious  involuntarily  an  absolute  entity, 
require  quite  different  arguments,  beyond  our  power  to  give. 
Had  we  to  prove  immortality,  we  should  have  to  collect  many 
more  important  arguments,  than  if  we  had  merely  to  demonstrate 
the  existence  of  plasmodia  in  a  malaria  patient.  The  meta- 
physical expectation  still  disturbs  the  scientific  way  of  thinking, 
so  that  problems  of  psychoanalysis  cannot  be  considered  in  a 
simple  way.  But  I  do  not  wish  to  be  unjust  to  the  critics,  and  I 
will  admit  that  the  psychoanalytic  school  itself  very  often  gives 
rise  to  misunderstandings,  although  innocently  enough.  One  of 
the  principal  sources  of  these  mistakes  is  the  confusion  in  the 
theoretical  sphere.  It  is  a  pity,  but  we  have  no  presentable 
theory.  But  you  would  understand  this,  if  you  could  see,  in  a 
concrete  case,  with  what  difficulties  we  have  to  deal.  In  contra- 
diction to  the  opinion  of  nearly  all  critics,  Freud  is  by  no  means 
a  theorist.  He  is  an  empiricist,  of  which  fact  anyone  can  easily 
convince  himself,  if  he  is  willing  to  busy  himself  somewhat  more 
deeply  with  Freud's  works,  and  if  he  tries  to  go  into  the  cases  as 
Freud  has  done.  Unfortunately,  the  critics  are  not  willing.  As 
we  have  very  often  heard,  it  is  too  disgusting  and  too  repulsive, 
to  observe  cases  in  the  same  way  as  Freud  has  done.  But  who 
will  learn  the  nature  of  Freud's  method,  if  he  allows  himself  to 
be  hindered  by  repulsion  and  disgust?  Because  they  neglect  to 
apply  themselves  to  the  point  of  view  adopted  by  Freud,  perhaps 
as  a  necessary  working  hypothesis,  they  come  to  the  absurd  sup- 
position that  Freud  is  a  theorist.  They  then  readily  agree  that 
Freud's  "  Three  Contributions  to  the  Sexual  Theory  "  is  a  priori 
invented  by  a  merely  speculative  brain  which  afterwards  suggests 
everything  into  the  patient.  That  is  putting  things  upside  down. 


THE  UNCONSCIOUS  59 

This  gives  the  critics  an  easy  task,  and  this  is  just  what  they  want 
to  have.  They  pay  no  attention  to  the  observations  of  the  psy- 
choanalysts, conscientiously  set  forth  in  their  histories  of  diseases, 
but  only  to  the  theory,  and  to  the  formulation  of  technique.  The 
weak  spot  of  psychoanalysis,  however,  is  not  found  here,  as 
psychoanalysis  is  only  empirical.  Here  you  find  but  a  large  and 
insufficiently  cultivated  field,  in  which  the  critics  can  exercise 
themselves  to  their  full  satisfaction.  There  are  many  uncertain- 
ties, and  as  many  contradictions,  in  the  sphere  of  this  theory. 
We  were  conscious  of  this  long  before  the  first  critic  began  to 
pay  attention  to  our  work. 


CHAPTER  VI 
THE  DREAM 

After  this  digression  we  will  return  to  the  question  of  the 
unconscious  phantasies  which  occupied  us  before.  As  we  have 
seen,  nobody  can  dispute  their  existence,  just  as  nobody  can 
assert  their  existence  and  their  qualities  forthwith.  The  ques- 
tion, however,  is  just  this:  Can  effects  be  observed  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  unconscious  origin,  which  can  be  described  in  con- 
scious symbolic  signs  or  expressions  ?  Can  there  be  found,  in  the 
conscious,  effects  which  correspond  with  this  expectation?  The 
psychoanalytic  school  believes  it  has  discovered  such  effects.  Let 
ii:.  me  mention  at  once  the  principal  phenomenon,  the  dream.  Of 
w?  this  it  may  be  said  that  it  appears  in  the  conscionsness  as  a  com- 
plex factor  unconsciously  constructed  out  of  its  elements.  The 
origin  of  the  images  in  certain  reminiscences  of  the  earlier  or  of 
the  later  past  can  be  proved  through  the  associations  belonging  to 
the  single  images  of  the  dream.  We  ask:  "Where  did  you  see 
this  ?  "  or  "  Where  did  you  hear  that  ?  "  And  through  the  usual 
way  of  association  come  the  reminiscences  that  certain  parts  of 
the  dream  have  been  consciously  experienced,  some  the  day 
before,  some  on  former  occasions.  So  far  there  will  be  general 
agreement,  for  these  things  are  well  known.  In  so  far,  the  dream 
represents  in  general  an  incomprehensible  composition  of  certain 
elements  not  at  first  conscious,  which  are  only  recognized  later 
on  by  their  associations.  It  is  not  that  all  parts  of  the  dream  are 
recognizable,  whence  its  conscious  character  could  be  deduced; 
on  the  contrary,  they  are  often,  and  indeed  mostly,  unrecognizable 
at  first.  Only  subsequently  does  it  occur  to  us  that  we  have 
experienced  in  consciousness  this  or  that  part  of  the  dream. 
From  this  standpoint  alone,  we  might  regard  the  dream  as  an 
effect  of  unconscious  origin. 

THE  METHOD  OF  DREAM  ANALYSIS 

The  technique  for  the  exploration  of  the  unconscious  origin  is 
the  one  I  mentioned  before,  used  before  Freud  by  every  scientific 

60 


THE   DREAM  6 1 

man  who  attempted  to  arrive  at  a  psychological  understanding  of 
dreams.  We  try  simply  to  remember  where  the  parts  of  the 
dream  arose.  The  psychoanalytic  technique  for  the  interpreta- 
tion of  dreams  is  based  on  this  very  simple  principle.  It  is  a  fact 
that  certain  parts  of  the  dream  originate  in  daily  life,  that  is,  in 
events  which,  on  account  of  their  slighter  importance,  would  have 
fallen  into  oblivion,  and  indeed  were  on  the  way  to  become  defi- 
nitely unconscious.  It  is  these  parts  of  the  dream  that  are  the 
effect  of  unconscious  images  and  representations.  People  have 
been  shocked  by  this  expression  also.  But  we  do  not  conceive 
these  things  so  concretely,  not  to  say  crudely,  as  do  the  critics. 
Certainly  this  expression  is  nothing  but  a  symbolism  taken  from 
conscious  psychology — we  were  never  in  any  doubt  as  to  that. 
The  expression  is  quite  clear  and  answers  very  well  as  a  symbol 
of  an  unknown  psychic  fact. 

As  we  mentioned  before,  we  can  conceive  the  unconscious  only 
by  analogj^wittijhe  conscious.  We  do  not  imagine  that  we  under- 
slSn3"a  thing  when  we  have  discovered  a  beautiful  and  rather 
incomprehensible  name.  The  principle  of  the  psychoanalytic 
technique  is,  as  you  see,  extraordinarily  simple.  The  further 
procedure  follows  on  in  the  same  way.  If  we  occupy  ourselves 
long  with  a  dream,  a  thing  which,  apart  from  psychoanalysis, 
naturally  never  happens,  we  are  apt  to  find  still  more  reminiscences 
to  the  various  different  parts  of  the  dream.  We  are  not  however 
always  successful  in  finding  reminiscences  to  certain  portions. 
We  have  to  put  aside  these  dreams,  or  parts  of  dreams,  whether 
we  will  or  no. 

The  collected  reminiscences  are  called  the  "dream  material." 
We  treat  this  material^  by  a  universally  valid  scientific  method. 
If  you  ever  have  to  work  up  experimental  material,  you  compare 
the  individual  units  and  classify  them  according  to  similarities. 
You  proceed  exactly  in  the  same  way  with  dream-material;  you 
look  for  the  common  traits  either  of  a  formal  or  a  substantial 
nature. 

Certain  extremely  common  prejudices  must  be  got  rid  of. 
I  have  always  noticed  that  the  beginner  is  looking  for  one  trait 
or  another  and  tries  to  make  his  material  conform  to  his  expecta- 
tion. This  condition  I  noticed  especially  among  those  colleagues 
who  were  formerly  more  or  less  passionate  opponents  of  psycho- 


62  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

analysis,  their  opposition  being  based  on  well-known  prejudices 
and  misunderstandings.  When  I  had  the  chance  of  analyzing 
them,  whereby  they  obtained  at  last  a  real  insight  into  the  method, 
the  first  mistake  generally  made  in  their  own  psychoanalytic  work 
was  that  they  did  violence  to  the  material  by  their  own  precon- 
ceived opinion.  They  gave  vent  to  their  former  prejudice  against 
psychoanalysis  in  their  attitude  towards  the  material,  which  they 
could  not  estimate  objectively,  but  only  according  to  their  sub- 
jective phantasies. 

If  one  would  have  the  courage  to  sift  dream  material,  one 
must  not  recoil  from  any  parallel.  The  dream  material  generally 
consists  of  very  heterogeneous  associations,  out  of  which  it  is 
sometimes  very  difficult  to  deduce  the  tertium  comparationis.  I 
refrain  from  giving  detailed  examples,  as  it  is  quite  impossible 
to  handle  in  a  lecture  the  voluminous  material  of  a  dream.  I 
might  call  your  attention  to  Rank's9  article  in  the  Jahrbuch,  "  Ein 
Traum  der  sich  selber  deutet"  (A  dream  interpreted  by  itself). 
There  you  will  see  what  an  extensive  material  must  be  taken  into 
consideration  for  comparison. 

Hence,  for  the  interpretation  of  the  unconscious  we  proceed 
in  the  same  way  as  is  universal  when  a  conclusion  is  to  be  drawn 
by  classifying  material.  The  objection  is  very  often  heard :  Why 
does  the  dream  have  an  unconscious  content  at  all?  In  my  view, 
this  objection  is  as  unscientific  as  possible.  Every  actual  psycho- 
logical moment  has  its  special  history.  Every  sentence  I  pro- 
nounce has,  beside  the  intended  meaning  known  to  me  another 
historical  meaning,  and  it  is  possible  that  its  second  meaning  is 
entirely  different  from  its  conscious  meaning.  I  express  myself 
on  purpose  somewhat  paradoxically.  I  do  not  mean  that  I  could 
explain  every  individual  sentence  in  its  historical  meaning.  This 
is  a  thing  easier  to  do  in  larger  and  more  detailed  contributions. 
It  will  be  clear  to  everyone,  that  a  poem  is,  apart  from  its  mani- 
fest content,  especially  characteristic  of  the  poet  in  regard  to  its 
form,  its  content,  and  its  manner  of  origin.  Although  the  poet, 
in  his  poem,  gave  expression  to  the  mood  of  a  moment,  the  liter- 
ary historian  will  find  things  in  it  and  behind  it  which  the  poet 
never  foresaw.  The  analysis  which  the  literary  historian  draws 
from  the  poet's  material  is  exactly  the  method  of  psychoanalysis. 

9  Jahrbuch  fur  psychopath,  u.  psychoanalyt.  Forschungen,  Bd.  II,  p. 
465. 


THE  DREAM  63 

The  psychoanalytic  method,  generally  speaking,  can  be  com- 
pared with  historical  analysis  and  synthesis.  Suppose,  for  in- 
stance, we  did  not  understand  the  meaning  of  baptism  as  practised 
in  our  churches  to-day.  The  priest  tells  us  the  baptism  means 
the  admission  of  the  child  into  the  Christian  community.  But 
this  does  not  satisfy  us.  Why  is  the  child  sprinkled  with  water? 
To  understand  this  ceremony,  we  must  choose  out  of  the  history 
of  rites,  those  human  traditions  which  pertain  to  this  subject,  and 
thus  we  get  material  for  comparison,  to  be  considered  from  dif- 
ferent standpoints. 

I.  The  baptism  means  obviously  an  initiation  ceremony,  a  con- 
secration; therefore  all  the  traditions  containing  initiation  rites 
have  to  be  consulted. 

II.  The  baptism  takes  place  with  water.     This  special  form 
requires  another  series  of  traditions,  namely,  those  rites  where 
water  is  used. 

III.  The  person  to  be  baptized  is  sprinkled  with  water.    Here 
are  to  be  consulted  all  those  rites  where  the  initiated  is  sprinkled 
or  submerged,  etc. 

IV.  All  the  reminiscences  of  folklore,  the  superstitious  prac- 
tices must  be  remembered,  which  in  any  way  run  parallel  with  the, 
symbolism  of  the  baptismal  act. 

In  this  way,  we  get  a  comparative  scientific  study  of  religion 
as  regards  baptism.  We  accordingly  discover  the  different  ele- 
ments out  of  which  the  act  of  baptism  has  arisen.  We  ascertain 
further  its  original  meaning,  and  we  become  at  the  same  time 
acquainted  with  the  rich  world  of  myths  that  have  contributed  to 
the  foundations  of  religions,  and  thus  we  are  enabled  to  under- 
stand the  manifold  and  profound  meanings  of  baptism.  The 
analyst  proceeds  in  the  same  way  with  the  dream.  He  collects 
the  historical  parallels  to  every  part  of  the  dream,  even  the 
remotest,  and  he  tries  to  reconstruct  the  psychological  history  of 
the  dream,  with  its  fundamental  meaning,  exactly  as  in  the  analysis 
of  the  act  of  baptism.  Thus,  through  the  monographic  treat- 
ment of  the  dream,  we  get  a  profound  and  beautiful  insight  into 
that  mysterious,  fine  and  ingenious  network  of  unconscious  de- 
termination. We  get  an  insight,  which  as  I  said  before,  can  only 
be  compared  with  the  historical  understanding  of  any  act  which 
we  had  hitherto  regarded  in  a  superficial  and  one-sided  way. 


64  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

This  digression  on  the  psychoanalytic  method  has  seemed  to 
me  to  be  unavoidable.  I  was  obliged  to  give  you  an  account  of 
the  method  and  its  position  in  methodology,  by  reason  of  all  the 
extensive  misunderstandings  which  are  constantly  attempting  to 
discredit  it.  I  do  not  doubt  that  there  are  superficial  and  im- 
proper interpretations  of  the  method.  But  an  intelligent  critic 
ought  never  to  allow  this  to  be  a  reproach  to  the  method  itself, 
any  more  than  a  bad  surgeon  should  be  urged  as  an  objection  to 
the  common  validity  of  surgery.  I  do  not  doubt  that  some  inac- 
curate descriptions  and  conceptions  of  the  psychoanalytic  method 
have  arisen  on  the  part  of  the  psychoanalytic  school  itself.  But 
this  is  due  to  the  fact  that,  because  of  their  education  in  natural 
science  it  is  difficult  for  medical  men  to  attain  a  full  grasp  of 
historical  or  philological  method,  although  they  instinctively 
handle  it  rightly. 

The  method  I  have  described  to  you,  in  this  general  way,  is 
the  method  that  I  adopt  and  for  which  I  assume  the  scientific 
responsibility. 

In  my  opinion  it  is  absolutely  reprehensible  and  unscientific 
to  question  about  dreams,  or  to  try  to  interpret  them  directly. 
This  is  not  a  methodological,  but  an  arbitrary  proceeding,  which 
is  its  own  punishment,  for  it  is  as  unproductive  as  every  false 
method. 

If  I  have  made  the  attempt  to  demonstrate  to  you  the  principle 
of  the  psychoanalytic  school  by  dream-analysis,  it  is  because  the 
dream  is  one  of  the  clearest  instances  of  those  contents  of  the 
conscious,  whose  basis  eludes  any  plain  and  direct  understanding. 
When  anyone  knocks  in  a  nail  with  a  hammer,  to  hang  something 
up,  we  can  understand  every  detail  of  the  action.  But  it  is  other- 
wise with  the  act  of  baptism,  where  every  phase  is  problematic. 
We  call  these  actions,  of  which  the  meaning  and  the  aim  is  not 
directly  evident,  symbolic  actions  or  symbols.  On  the  basis  of 
this  reasoning,  we  call  a  dream  symbolic,  as  a  dream  is  a  psycho- 
logical formation,  of  which  the  origin,  meaning  and  aim  are 
obscure,  inasmuch  as  it  represents  one  of  the  purest  products  of 
unconscious  constellation.  As  Freud  strikingly  says :  "  The  dream 
is  the  via  regia  to  the  unconscious."  Besides  the  dream,  we  can 
note  many  effects  of  unconscious  constellation.  We  have  in  the 
association-experiments  a  means  for  establishing  exactly  the  in- 


THE   DREAM  65 

fluence  of  the  unconscious.  We  find  those  effects  in  the  dis- 
turbances of  the  experiment  which  I  have  called  the  "indicators 
of  the  complex."  The  task  which  the  association-experiment 
gives  to  the  person  experimented  upon  is  so  extraordinarily  easy 
and  simple  that  even  children  can  accomplish  it  without  difficulty. 
It  is,  therefore,  very  remarkable  that  so  many  disturbances  of  an 
intentional  action  should  be  noted  in  this  experiment.  The  only 
reasons  or  causes  of  these  disturbances  which  can  usually  be 
shown,  are  the  partly  conscious,  partly  not-conscious  constella- 
tions, caused  by  the  so-called  complexes.  In  the  greater  number 
of  these  disturbances,  we  can  without  difficulty  establish  the  rela- 
tion to  images  of  emotional  complexes.  We  often  need  the  psy- 
choanalytic method  to  explain  these  relations,  that  is,  we  have  to 
ask  the  person  experimented  upon  or  the  patient,  what  associa-  - 
tions  he  can  give  to  the  disturbed  reactions.  We  thus  gain  the 
historical  matter  which  serves  as  a  basis  for  our  judgment.  The 
intelligent  objection  has  already  been  made  that  the  person  experi- 
mented upon  could  say  what  he  liked,  in  other  words,  any  non- 
sense. This  objection  is  made,  I  believe,  in  the  unconscious  sup- 
position that  the  historian  who  collects  the  matter  for  his  mono- 
graph is  an  idiot,  incapable  of  distinguishing  real  parallels  from 
apparent  ones  and  true  documents  from  crude  falsifications. 
The  professional  man  has  means  at  his  disposal  by  which  clumsy 
mistakes  can  be  avoided  with  certainty,  and  the  slighter  ones  very 
probably.  The  mistrust  of  our  opponents  is  here  really  delight- 
ful. For  anyone  who  understands  psychoanalytic  work  it  is  a 
well-known  fact  that  it  is  not  so  very  difficult  to  see  where  there 
is  coherence,  and  where  there  is  none.  Moreover,  in  the  first  place 
these  fraudulent  declarations  are  very  significant  of  the  person 
experimented  upon,  and  secondly,  in  general  rather  easily  to  be 
recognized  as  fraudulent. 

In  association-experiments,  we  are  able  to  recognize  the  very 
intense  effects  produced  by  the  unconscious  in  what  are  called 
complex-interventions.  These  mistakes  made  in  the  association- 
experiment  are  nothing  but  the  prototypes  of  the  mistakes  made 
in  everyday  life,  which  are  for  the  greater  part  to  be  considered 
as  interventions.  Freud  brought  together  such  material  in  his 
book,  "  The  Psychopathology  of  Everyday  Life." 

These  include  the  so-called  symptomatic  actions,  which  from 


66  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

another  point  of  view  might  equally  as  well  be  called  "  symbolic 
actions,"  and  the  real  failures  to  carry  out  actions,  such  as  for- 
getting, slips  of  the  tongue,  etc.  All  these  phenomena  are  the  effect 
of  unconscious  constellations  and  therefore  so  many  entrance- 
gates  into  the  domain  of  the  unconscious.  When  such  errors  are 
cumulative,  they  are  designated  as  neurosis,  which,  from  this 
aspect,  looks  like  a  defective  action  and  therefore  the  effect  of 
unconscious  constellations  or  complex-interventions. 

The  association-experiment  is  thus  not  directly  a  means  to 
unlock  the  unconscious,  but  rather  a  technique  for  obtaining  a 
good  selection  of  defective  reactions,  which  can  then  be  used  by 
psychoanalysis.  At  least,  this  is  its  most  reliable  form  of  appli- 
cation at  the  present  time.  I  may,  however,  mention  that  it  is 
possible  that  it  may  furnish  other  especially  valuable  facts  which 
would  grant  us  some  direct  glimpses,  but  I  do  not  consider  this 
problem  sufficiently  ripe  to  speak  about.  Investigations  in  this 
direction  are  going  on. 

I  hope  that,  through  my  explanation  of  our  method,  you  may 
have  gained  somewhat  more  confidence  in  its  scientific  character, 
so  that  you  will  be  by  this  time  more  inclined  to  agree  that  the 
phantasies  which  have  been  hitherto  discovered  by  means  of 
psychoanalytic  work  are  not  merely  arbitrary  suppositions  and 
illusions  of  psychoanalysts.  Perhaps  you  are  even  inclined  to 
listen  patiently  to  what  those  products  of  unconscious  phantasies 
can  tell  us. 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE  CONTENT  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS 

The  phantasies  of  adults  are,  in  so  far  as  they  are  conscious, 
of  great  diversity  and  strongly  individual.  It  is  therefore  nearly 
impossible  to  give  a  general  description  of  them.  But  it  is  very 
different  when  we  enter  by  means  of  analysis  into  the  world  of 
his  unconscious  phantasies.  The  diversities  of  the  phantasies  are 
indeed  very  great,  but  we  do  not  find  those  individual  peculiarities 
which  we  find  in  the  conscious  self.  We  meet  here  with  more 
typical  material  which  is  not  infrequently  repeated  in  a  similar 
form  in  different  people.  Constantly  recurring,  for  instance,  are 
ideas  which  are  variations  of  the  thoughts  we  encounter  in 
religion  and  mythology.  This  fact  is  so  convincing  that  we  say 
we  have  discovered  in  these  phantasies  the  same  mechanisms 
which  once  created  mythological  and  religious  ideas.  I  should 
have  to  enter  very  much  into  detail  in  order  to  give  you  adequate 
examples.  I  must  refer  you  for  these  problems  to  my  work, 
"Wandlungen  und  Symbole  der  Libido."  I  will  only  mention 
that,  for  instance,  the  central  symbol  of  Christianity — self- 
sacrifice — plays  an  important  part  in  the  phantasies  of  the  uncon- 
scious. The  Viennese  School  describes  this  phenomenon  by  the 
ambiguous  term  castration-complex.  This  paradoxical  use  of  the 
term  follows  from  the  particular  attitude  of  this  school  toward 
the  question  of  unconscious  sexuality.  I  have  given  special 
attention  to  the  problem  in  the  book  I  have  just  mentioned;  I 
must  here  restrict  myself  to  this  incidental  reference  and  hasten 
to  say  something  about  the  origin  of  the  unconscious  phantasy. 

In  the  child's  unconsciousness,  the  phantasies  are  consider- 
ably simplified,  in  relation  to  the  proportions  of  the  infantile  sur- 
roundings. Thanks  to  the  united  efforts  of  the  psychoanalytic 
school,  we  discovered  that  the  most  frequent  phantasy  of  child- 
hood is  the  so-called  (Edipus-complex.  This  designation  also 
seems  as  paradoxical  as  possible.  We  know  that  the  tragic  fate 
of  CEdipus  consisted  in  his  loving  his  mother  and  slaying  his 
father.  This  conflict  of  later  life  seems  to  be  far  remote  from 

67 


68  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

the  child's  mind.  To  the  uninitiated  it  seems  inconceivable  that 
the  child  should  have  this  conflict.  After  careful  reflection  it 
will  become  clear  that  the  tertium  comparationis  consists  just  in 
this  narrow  limitation  of  the  fate  of  CEdipus  within  the  bounds 
of  the  family.  These  limitations  are  very  typical  for  the  child, 
for  parents  are  never  the  boundary  for  the  adult  person  to  the 
same  extent.  The  GEdipus-complex  represents  an  infantile  con- 
flict, but  with  the  exaggeration  of  the  adult.  The  term  QEdipus- 
complex  does  not  mean,  naturally,  that  this  conflict  is  considered 
as  occurring  in  the  adult  form,  but  in  a  corresponding  form  suit- 
able to  childhood.  The  little  son  would  like  to  have  the  mother 
all  to  himself  and  to  be  rid  of  the  father.  As  you  know,  little 
children  can  sometimes  force  themselves  between  the  parents  in 
the  most  jealous  way.  The  wishes  and  aims  get,  in  the  uncon- 
scious, a  more  concrete  and  a  more  drastic  form.  Children  are 
small  primitive  people  and  are  therefore  quickly  ready  to  kill. 
But  as  a  child  is,  in  general,  harmless,  so  his  apparently  dangerous 
wishes  are,  as  a  rule,  also  harmless.  I  say  "as  a  rule,"  as  you 
know  that  children,  too,  sometimes  give  way  to  their  impulses  to 
murder,  and  this  not  always  in  any  indirect  fashion.  But  just  as 
the  child,  in  general,  is  incapable  of  making  systematic  projects, 
as  little  dangerous  are  his  intentions  to  murder.  The  same  holds 
good  of  an  CEdipus-view  toward  the  mother.  The  small  traces 
of  this  phantasy  in  the  conscious  can  easily  be  overlooked ;  there- 
fore nearly  all  parents  are  convinced  that  their  children  have  no 
QEdipus-complex.  Parents  as  well  as  lovers  are  generally  blind. 
If  I  now  say  that  the  CEdipus-complex  is  in  the  first  place  only 
a  formula  for  the  childish  desire  towards  parents,  and  for  the 
conflict  which  this  craving  evokes,  this  statement  of  the  situation 
will  be  more  readily  accepted.  The  history  of  the  GEdipus- 
phantasy  is  of  special  interest,  as  it  teaches  us  very  much  about 
the  development  of  the  unconscious  phantasies.  Naturally,  people 
think  that  the  problem  of  GEdipus  is  the  problem  of  the  son. 
But  this  is,  astonishingly  enough,  only  an  illusion.  Under  some 
circumstances  the  libido-sexualis  reaches  that  definite  differentia- 
tion of  puberty  corresponding  to  the  sex  of  the  individual  rela- 
tively late.  The  libido  sexualis  has  before  this  time  an  undiffer- 
entiated  sexual  character,  which  can  be  also  termed  bisexual. 
Therefore  it  is  not  astonishing  if  little  girls  possess  the  CEdipus- 


CONTENT  OF  THE   UNCONSCIOUS  69 

complex  too.  As  far  as  I  can  see,  the  first  love  of  the  child 
belongs  to  the  mother,  no  matter  which  its  sex.  If  the  love  for 
the  mother  at  this  stage  is  intense,  the  father  is  jealously  kept 
away  as  a  rival.  Of  course,  for  the  child  itself,  the  mother  has 
in  this  early  stage  of  childhood  no  sexual  significance  of  any 
importance.  The  term  "  (Edipus-complex "  is  in  so  far  not 
really  suitable.  At  this  stage  the  mother  has  still  the  significance 
of  a  protecting,  enveloping,  food-providing  being,  who,  on  this 
account,  is  a  source  of  delight.  I  do  not  identify,  as  I  explained 
before,  the  feeling  oi  delight  eo  ipso  with  sexuality.  In  earliest 
childhood  but  a  slight  amount  of  sexuality  is  connected  with  this 
feeling  of  delight.  But,  nevertheless,  jealousy  can  play  a  great 
part  in  it,  as  jealousy  does  not  belong  entirely  to  the  sphere  of 
sexuality.  The  desire  for  food  has  much  to  do  with  the  first 
impulses  of  jealousy.  Certainly,  a  relatively  germinating  eroticism 
is  also  connected  with  it.  This  element  gradually  increases  as 
the  years  go  on,  so  that  the  CEdipus-complex  soon  assumes  its 
classical  form.  In  the  case  of  the  son,  the  conflict  develops  in  a 
more  masculine  and  therefore  more  typical  form,  whilst  in  the 
daughter,  the  typical  affection  for  the  father  develops,  with  a 
correspondingly  jealous  attitude  toward  the  mother.  We  call  this 
complex,  the  Electra-complex.  As  everybody  knows,  Electra 
took  revenge  on  her  mother  for  the  murder  of  her  husband, 
because  that  mother  had  robbed  her  of  her  father. 

Both  phantasy-complexes  develop  with  growing  age,  and  reach 
a  new  stage  after  puberty,  when  the  emancipation  from  the  parents 
is  more  or  less  attained.  The  symbol  of  this  time  is  the  one 
already  previously  mentioned;  it  is  the  symbol  of  self-sacrifice. 
The  more  the  sexuality  develops  the  more  the  individual 
is  forced  to  leave  his  family  and  to  acquire  independence 
and  autonomy.  By  its  history,  the  child  is  closely  con- 
nected with  its  family  and  specially  with  its  parents.  In  conse- 
quence, it  is  often  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  the  child  is 
able  to  free  itself  from  its  infantile  surroundings.  The  CEdipus- 
and  Electra-complex  give  rise  to  a  conflict,  if  adults  cannot  suc- 
ceed in  spiritually  freeing  themselves ;  hence  arises  the  possibility 
of  neurotic  disturbance.  The  libido,  which  is  already  sexually 
developed,  takes  possession  of  the  form  given  by  the  complex 
and  produces  feelings  and  phantasies  which  unmistakably  show 


70  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

the  effective  existence  of  the  complex,  till  then  perfectly  uncon- 
scious. The  next  consequence  is  the  formation  of  intense  resist- 
ances against  the  immoral  inner  impulses  which  are  derived  from 
the  now  active  complexes.  The  conscious  attitude  arising  out  of 
this  can  be  of  different  kinds.  Either  the  consequences  are  direct, 
and  then  we  notice  in  the  son  strong  resistances  against  the  father 
and  a  typical  affectionate  and  dependent  attitude  toward  the 
mother;  or  the  consequences  are  indirect,  that  is  to  say,  com- 
pensated, and  we  notice,  instead  of  the  resistances  toward  the 
father,  a  typical  submissiveness  here,  and  an  irritated  antagonistic 
attitude  toward  the  mother.  It  is  possible  that  direct  and  com- 
pensated consequences  take  place  alternately.  The  same  thing  is 
to  be  said  of  the  Electra-complex.  If  the  libido-sexualis  were  to 
cleave  fast  to  these  particular  forms  of  the  conflict,  murder  and 
incest  would  be  the  consequence  of  the  GEdipus  and  Electra 
conflicts.  These  consequences  are  naturally  not  found  among 
normal  people,  and  not  even  among  amoral  ("moral"  here 
implying  the  possession  of  a  rationalized  and  codified  moral 
system)  primitive  persons,  or  humanity  would  have  become 
extinct  long  ago.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  in  the  natural  order  of 
things  that  what  surrounds  us  daily  and  has  surrounded  us,  loses 
its  compelling  charm  and  thus  forces  the  libido  to  search  for  new 
objects,  an  important  rule  which  prevents  parricide  and  inbreeding. 
The  further  development  of  the  libido  toward  objects  out- 
side the  family  is  the  absolutely  normal  and  right  way  of  pro- 
ceeding, and  it  is  an  abnormal  and  morbid  phenomenon  if  the 
libido  remains,  as  it  were,  glued  to  the  family.  Some  indications 
of  this  phenomenon  are  nevertheless  to  be  noticed  in  normal 
people.  A  direct  outcome  of  the  infantile-complex  is  the  uncon- 
scious phantasy  of  self-sacrifice,  which  occurs  after  puberty,  in 
the  succeeding  stage  of  development.  Of  this  I  gave  a  detailed 
example  in  my  work,  "  Wandlungen  und  Symbole  der  Libido." 
The  phantasy  of  self-sacrifice  means  sacrificing  infantile  wishes. 
I  have  shown  this  in  the  work  just  mentioned  and  in  the  same' 
place  I  have  referred  to  the  parallels  in  the  history  of  religions. 

THE  PROBLEMS  OF  THE  INCEST-COMPLEX 

Freud  has  a  special  conception  of  the  incest-complex  which 
has  given  rise  to  heated  controversy.    He  starts  from  the  fact 


CONTENT  OF  THE  UNCONSCIOUS  7 1 

that  the  CEdipus-complex  is  generally  unconscious,  and  conceives 
this  as  the  result  of  a  repression  of  a  moral  kind.  It  is  possible 
that  I  am  not  expressing  myself  quite  correctly,  when  I  give  you 
Freud's  view  in  these  words.  At  any  rate,  according  to  him  the 
CEdipus-complex  seems  to  be  repressed,  that  is,  seems  to  be 
removed  into  the  unconscious  by  a  reaction  from  the  conscious 
tendencies.  It  almost  looks  as  if  the  CEdipus-complex  would 
develop  into  consciousness  if  the  development  of  the  child  were 
to  go  on  without  restraint  and  if  no  cultural  tendencies  influenced 
it.  Freud  calls  this  barrier,  which  prevents  the  CEdipus-complex 
from  ripening,  the  incest-barrier.  He  seems  to  believe,  so  far  as 
one  can  gather  from  his  work,  that  the  incest-barrier  is  the  result 
of  experience,  of  the  selective  influence  of  reality,  inasmuch  as 
the  unconscious  strives  without  restraint,  and  in  an  immediate 
way,  for  its  own  satisfaction,  without  any  consideration  for 
others.  This  conception  is  in  harmony  with  the  conception  of 
Schopenhauer,  who  says  of  the  blind  world-will  that  it  is  so 
egoistic  that  a  man  could  slay  his  brother  merely  to  grease  his 
boots  with  his  brother's  fat.  Freud  considers  that  the  psycholog- 
ical incest-barrier,  as  postulated  by  him,  can  be  compared  with 
the  incest-taboo  which  we  find  among  inferior  races.  He  further 
believes  that  these  prohibitions  are  a  proof  of  the  fact  that  men 
really  desired  incest,  for  which  reason  laws  were  framed  against 
it  even  in  very  primitive  cultural  stages.  He  takes  the  tendency 
towards  incest  to  be  an  absolute  concrete  sexual  wish,  lacking 
only  the  quality  of  consciousness.  He  calls  this  complex  the 
root-complex,  or  nucleus,  of  the  neuroses,  and  is  inclined,  view- 
ing this  as  the  original  one,  to  reduce  nearly  the  whole  psychology 
of  the  neuroses,  as  well  as  many  other  phenomena  in  the  world 
of  mind,  to  this  complex. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES 

With  this  conception  of  Freud's  we  have  to  return  to  the 
question  of  the  etiology  of  the  neuroses.  We  have  seen  that  the 
psychoanalytic  theory  began  with  a  traumatic  event  in  child- 
hood, which  was  only  later  on  found  to  be  a  phantasy,  at  least 
in  many  cases.  In  consequence,  the  theory  became  modified,  and 
tried  to  find  in  the  development  of  abnormal  phantasy  the  main 
etiological  significance.  The  investigation  of  the  unconscious, 
made  by  the  collaboration  of  many  workers,  carried  on  over  a 
space  of  ten  years,  provided  an  extensive  empirical  material, 
which  demonstrated  that  the  incest-complex  was  the  beginning 
of  the  morbid  phantasies.  But  it  was  no  longer  thought  that  the 
incest-complex  was  a  special  complex  of  neurotic  people.  It  was 
demonstrated  to  be  a  constituent  of  a  normal  infantile  psyche 
too.  We  cannot  tell,  by  its  mere  existence,  if  this  complex  will 
give  rise  to  a  neurosis  or  not.  To  become  pathogenic,  it  must 
give  rise  to  a  conflict;  that  is,  the  complex,  which  in  itself  is 
harmless,  has  to  become  dynamic,  and  thus  give  rise  to  a  conflict. 

Herewith,  we  come  to  a  new  and  important  question.  The 
whole  etiological  problem  is  altered,  if  the  infantile  "  root- 
complex  "  is  only  a  general  form,  which  is  not  pathogenic  in  itself, 
and  requires,  as  we  saw  in  our  previous  exposition,  to  be  sub- 
sequently set  in  action.  Under  these  circumstances,  we  dig  in 
vain  among  the  reminiscences  of  earliest  childhood,  as  they  give 
us  only  the  general  forms  of  the  later  conflicts,  but  not  the  con- 
flict itself. 

I  believe  the  best  thing  I  can  do  is  to  describe  the  further 
development  of  the  theory  by  demonstrating  the  case  of  that 
young  lady  whose  story  you  have  heard  in  part  in  one  of  the 
former  lectures.  You  will  probably  remember  that  the  shying 
of  the  horses,  by  means  of  the  anamnestic  explanation,  brought 
back  the  reminiscence  of  a  comparable  scene  in  childhood.  We 
here  discussed  the  trauma  theory.  We  found  that  we  had  to 

72 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  73 

look  for  the  real  pathological  element  in  the  exaggerated  phan- 
tasy, which  took  its  origin  in  a  certain  retardation  of  the  psychic 
sexual  development.  We  have  now  to  apply  our  theoretical 
standpoint  to  the  origin  of  this  particular  type  of  illness,  so  that 
we  may  understand  how,  just  at  that  moment,  this  event  of  her 
childhood,  >;hich  seemed  to  be  of  such  potency,  could  come  to 
constellation. 

The  simplest  way  to  come  to  an  understanding  of  this  im- 
portant event  would  be  by  making  an  exact  inquiry  into  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  moment.  The  first  thing  I  did  was  to  question 
the  patient  about  the  society  in  which  she  had  been  at  that  time, 
and  as  to  what  was  the  farewell  gathering  to  which  she  had  been 
just  before.  She  had  been  at  a  farewell  supper,  given  in  honor 
of  her  best  friend,  who  was  going  to  a  foreign  health-resort  for 
a  nervous  illness.  We  hear  that  this  friend  is  happily  married, 
and  is  the  mother  of  one  child.  We  have  some  right  to  doubt 
this  assertion  of  her  happiness.  If  she  were  really  happily 
married,  she  probably  would  not  be  nervous  and  would  not  need 
a  cure.  When  I  put  my  question  differently,  I  learned  that  my 
patient  had  been  brought  back  into  the  host's  house  as  soon  as 
she  was  overtaken  by  her  friends,  as  this  house  was  the  nearest 
place  to  bring  her  to  in  safety.  In  her  exhausted  condition  she 
received  his  hospitality.  As  the  patient  came  to  this  part  of  her 
history  she  suddenly  broke  off,  was  embarrassed,  fidgetted  and 
tried  to  turn  to  another  subject.  Evidently  we  had  now  come  upon 
some  disagreeable  reminiscences,  which  suddenly  presented  them- 
selves. After  the  patient  had  overcome  obstinate  resistances,  it 
was  admitted  that  something  very  remarkable  had  happened  that 
night.  The  host  made  her  a  passionate  declaration  of  love,  thus 
giving  rise  to  a  situation  that  might  well  be  considered  difficult 
and  painful,  considering  the  absence  of  the  hostess.  Ostensibly 
this  declaration  came  like  a  flash  of  lightning  from  a  clear  sky. 
A  small  dose  of  criticism  applied  to  this  assertion  will  teach  us 
that  these  things  never  drop  from  the  clouds,  but  have  always 
their  previous  history.  It  was  the  work  of  the  following  weeks 
to  dig  out  piecemeal  a  whole,  long  love-story. 

I  can  thus  roughly  describe  the  picture  I  got  at  finally.  As  a 
child  the  patient  was  thoroughly  boyish,  loved  only  turbulent 
games  for  boys,  laughed  at  her  own  sex,  and  flung  aside  all 


74  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

feminine  ways  and  occupations.  After  puberty,  the  time  when 
the  sex-question  should  have  come  nearer  to  her,  she  began  to 
shun  all  society;  she  hated  and  despised,  as  it  were,  everything 
which  could  remind  her  even  remotely  of  the  biological  destina- 
tion of  mankind,  and  lived  in  a  world  of  phantasies  which  had 
nothing  in  common  with  the  rude  reality.  So  she  escaped,  up  to- 
her  twenty-fourth  year,  all  the  little  adventures,  hopes  and  ex- 
pectations which  ordinarily  move  a  woman  of  this  age.  (In  this 
respect  women  are  very  often  remarkably  insincere  towards 
themselves  and  towards  the  physician.)  But  she  became  ac- 
quainted with  two  men  who  were  destined  to  destroy  the  thorny 
hedge  which  had  grown  all  around  her.  Mr.  A.  was  the  husband 
of  her  best  friend  at  the  time;  Mr.  B.  was  the  bachelor- friend 
of  this  family.  Both  were  to  her  taste.  It  seemed  to  her  pretty 
soon  that  Mr.  B.  was  much  more  sympathetic  to  her,  and  from 
this  resulted  a  more  intimate  relationship  between  herself  and 
him,  and  the  possibility  of  an  engagement  was  discussed. 
Through  her  relations  with  Mr.  B.,  and  through  her  friend,  she 
met  Mr.  A.  frequently.  In  an  inexplicable  way  his  presence  very 
often  excited  her  and  made  her  nervous.  Just  at  this  time  our 
friend  went  to  a  big  party.  All  her  friends  were  there.  She 
became  lost  in  thought,  and  played  as  in  a  dream  with  her  ring, 
which  suddenly  slipped  from  her  hand  and  rolled  under  the 
table.  Both  men  tried  to  find  it,  and  Mr.  B.  managed  to  get  it. 
With  an  expressive  smile  he  put  the  ring  back  on  her  finger  and 
said :  "  You  know  what  this  means  ?  "  At  that  moment  a  strange 
and  irresistible  feeling  came  over  her,  she  tore  the  ring  from  her 
finger  and  threw  it  out  of  the  open  window.  Evidently  a  painful 
moment  ensued,  and  she  soon  left  the  company,  feeling  deeply 
depressed.  A  short  time  later  she  found  herself,  for  her  holi- 
days, accidentally  in  the  same  health-resort  where  Mr.  A.  and  his 
wife  were  staying.  Mrs.  A.  now  became  more  and  more  nervous, 
and,  as  she  felt  ill,  had  to  stay  frequently  at  home.  The  patient 
often  went  out  with  Mr.  A.  alone/  One  day  they  were  out  in  a 
small  boat.  She  was  boisterously  merry,  and  suddenly  fell  over- 
board. Mr.  A.  saved  her  with  great  difficulty,  and  lifted  her, 
half  unconscious,  into  the  boat.  He  then  kissed  her.  With  this 
romantic  event  the  bonds  were  woven  fast.  To  defend  herself, 
our  patient  tried  energetically  to  get  herself  engaged  to  Mr.  B., 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  75 

and  to  imagine  that  she  loved  him.  Of  course  this  queer  play 
did  not  escape  the  sharp  eye  of  feminine  jealousy.  Mrs.  A.,  her 
friend,  felt  the  secret,  was  worried  by  it,  and  her  nervousness 
grew  proportionately.  It  became  more  and  more  necessary  for 
her  to  go  to  a  foreign  health-resort.  The  farewell-party  was  a 
dangerous  opportunity.  The  patient  knew  that  her  friend  and 
rival  was  going  off  the  same  evening,  so  Mr.  A.  would  be  alone. 
Certainly  she  did  not  see  this  opportunity  clearly,  as  women  have 
the  notable  capacity  "to  think"  purely  emotionally,  and  not  in- 
tellectually. For  this  reason,  it  seems  to  them  as  if  they  never 
thought  about  certain  matters  at  all,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  she  had 
a  queer  feeling  all  the  evening.  She  felt  extremely  nervous,  and 
when  Mrs.  A.  had  been  accompanied  to  the  station  and  had  gone, 
the  hysterical  attack  occurred  on  her  way  back.  I  asked  her  of 
what  she  had  been  thinking,  or  what  she  felt  at  the  actual  moment 
when  the  trotting  horses  came  along.  Her  answer  was,  she  had 
only  a  frightful  feeling,  the  feeling  that  something  dreadful  was 
very  near  to  her,  which  she  could  not  escape.  As  you  know,  the 
consequence  was  that  the  exhausted  patient  was  brought  back 
into  the  house  of  the  host,  Mr.  A.  A  simple  human  mind  would 
understand  the  situation  without  difficulty.  An  uninitiated  person 
would  say:  "Well,  that  is  clear  enough,  she  only  intended  to 
return  by  one  way  or  another  to  Mr.  A.'s  house,"  but  the  psy- 
chologist would  reproach  this  layman  for  his  incorrect  way  of 
expressing  himself,  and  would  tell  him  that  the  patient  was  not 
conscious  of  the  motives  of  her  behavior,  and  that  it  was,  there- 
fore, not  permissible  to  speak  of  the  patient's  intention  to  return 
to  Mr.  A.'s  house. 

There  are,  of  course,  learned  psychologists  who  are  capable  of 
furnishing  many  theoretical  reasons  for  disputing  the  meaning  of 
this  behavior.  They  base  their  reasons  on  the  dogma  of  the 
identity  of  consciousness  and  psyche.  The  psychology  inaugu- 
rated by  Freud  recognized  long  ago  that  it  is  impossible  to  esti- 
mate psychological  actions  as  to  their  final  meaning  by  conscious 
motives,  but  that  the  objective  standard  of  their  psychological 
results  has  to  be  applied  for  their  right  evaluation.  Now-a-days 
it  cannot  be  contested  any  longer  that  there  are  unconscious 
tendencies  too,  which  have  a  great  influence  on  our  modes  of 
reaction,  and  on  the  effects  to  which  these  in  turn  give  rise. 


76  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

What  'happened  in  Mr.  A.'s  house  bears  out  this  observation ;  our 
patient  made  a  sentimental  scene,  and  Mr.  A.  was  induced  to 
answer  it  with  a  declaration  of  love.  Looked  at  in  the  light  of 
this  last  event,  the  whole  previous  history  seems  to  be  very  in- 
geniously directed  towards  just  this  end,  but  throughout  the  con- 
science of  the  patient  struggled  consciously  against  it.  Our  theo- 
retical profit  from  this  story  is  the  clear  perception  that  an  un- 
conscious purpose  or  tendency  has  brought  on  to  the  stage  the 
scene  of  the  fright  from  the  horses,  utilizing  thus  very  possibly 
that  infantile  reminiscence,  where  the  shying  horses  galloped 
towards  the  catastrophe.  Reviewing  the  whole  material,  the 
scene  with  the  horses — the  starting  point  of  the  illness — seems 
now  to  be  the  keystone  of  a  planned  edifice.  The  fright,  and  the 
apparent  traumatic  effect  of  the  event  in  childhood,  are  only 
brought  on  the  stage  in  the  peculiar  way  characteristic  of  hysteria. 
But  what  is  thus  put  on  the  stage  has  become  almost  a  reality. 
We  know  from  hundreds  of  experiences  that  certain  hysterical 
pains  are  only  put  on  the  stage  in  order  to  reap  certain  advan- 
tages from  the  sufferer's  surroundings.  The  patients  not  only 
believe  that  they  suffer,  but  their  sufferings  are,  from  a  psycho- 
logical standpoint,  as  real  as  those  due  to  organic  causes;  never- 
theless, they  are  but  stage-effects. 

THE  REGRESSION  OF  LIBIDO 

This  utilization  of  reminiscences  to  put  on  the  stage  any  ill- 
ness, or  an  apparent  etiology,  is  called  a  regression  of  the  libido. 
The  libido  goes  back  to  reminiscences,  and  makes  them  actual, 
so  that  an  apparent  etiology  is  produced.  In  this  case,  by  the  old 
theory,  the  fright  from  the  horses  would  seem  to  be  based  on  a 
former  shock.  The  resemblance  between  the  two  scenes  is  un- 
mistakable, and  in  both  cases  the  patient's  fright  is  absolutely 
real.  At  any  rate,  we  have  no  reason  to  doubt  her  assertions  in 
this  respect,  as  they  are  in  full  harmony  with  all  other  experi- 
ences. The  nervous  asthma,  the  hysterical  anxiety,  the  psycho- 
genie  depressions  and  exaltations,  the  pains,  the  convulsions — 
they  are  all  very  real,  and  that  physician  who  has  himself  suffered 
from  a  psychogenic  symptom  knows  that  it  feels  absolutely  real. 
Regressively  re-lived  reminiscences,  even  if  they  were  but  phan- 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  77 

tasies,  are  as  real  as  remembrances  of  events  that  have  once 
been  real. 

As  the  term  "  regression  of  libido  "  shows,  we  understand  by 
this  retrograde  mode  of  application  of  the  libido,  a  retreat  of  the 
libido  to  former  stages.  In  our  example,  we  are  able  to  recog- 
nize clearly  the  way  the  process  of  regression  is  carried  on.  At 
that  farewell  party,  which  proved  a  good  opportunity  to  be  alone 
with  the  host,  the  patient  shrank  from  the  idea  of  turning  this 
opportunity  to  her  advantage,  and  yet  was  overpowered  by  her 
desires,  which  she  had  never  consciously  realized  up  to  that 
moment.  The  libido  was  not  used  consciously  for  that  definite 
purpose,  nor  was  this  purpose  ever  acknowledged.  The  libido 
had  to  carry  it  out  through  the  unconscious,  and  through  the  pre- 
text of  the  fright  caused  by  an  apparently  terrible  danger.  Her 
feeling  at  the  moment  when  the  horses  approached  illustrates  our 
formula  most  clearly ;  she  felt  as  if  something  inevitable  had  now 
to  happen. 

The  process  of  regression  is  beautifully  demonstrated  in  an 
illustration  already  used  by  Freud.  The  libido  can  be  compared 
with  a  stream  which  is  dammed  up  as  soon  as  its  course  meets 
any  impediment,  whence  arises  an  inundation.  If  this  stream  has 
previously,  in  its  upper  reaches,  excavated  other  channels,  then 
these  channels  will  be  filled  up  again  by  reason  of  the  damming 
below.  To  a  certain  extent  they  would  appear  to  be  real  river 
beds,  filled  with  water  as  before,  but  at  the  same  time,  they  only 
have  a  temporary  existence.  It  is  not  that  the  stream  has  per- 
manently chosen  the  old  channels,  but  only  for  as  long  as  the 
impediment  endures  in  the  main  stream.  The  affluents  do  not 
always  carry  water,  because  they  were  from  the  first,  as  it  were, 
not  independent  streams,  but  only  former  stages  of  development 
of  the  main  river,  or  passing  possibilities,  to  which  an  inundation 
has  given  the  opportunity  for  fresh  existence.  This  illustration 
can  directly  be  transferred  to  the  development  of  the  application 
of  the  libido.  The  definite  direction,  the  main  river,  is  not  yet 
found  during  the  childish  development  of  sexuality.  The  libido 
goes  instead  into  all  possible  by-paths,  and  only  gradually  does 
the  definite  form  develop.  But  the  more  the  stream  follows  out 
its  main  channel,  the  more  the  affluents  will  dry  up  and  lose  their 
importance,  leaving  only  traces  of  former  activity.  Similarly, 


7§  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

the  importance  of  the  childish  precursors  of  sexuality  disappears 
completely  as  a  rule,  only  leaving  behind  certain  traces. 

If  in  later  life  an  impediment  arises,  so  that  the  damming  of 
the  libido  reanimates  the  old  by-paths,  the  condition  thus  excited 
is  properly  a  new  one,  and  something  abnormal. 

The  former  condition  of  the  child  is  normal  usage  of  the 
libido,  whilst  the  return  of  the  libido  towards  the  childish  past  is 
something  abnormal.  Therefore,  in  my  opinion,  it  is  an  erro- 
neous terminology  to  call  the  infantile  sexual  manifestations  "per- 
versions," for  it  is  not  permissible  to  give  normal  manifestations 
pathological  terms.  This  erroneous  usage  seems  to  be  responsible 
for  the  confusion  of  the  scientific  public.  The  terms  employed 
in  neurotic  psychology  have  been  misapplied  here,  under  the  as- 
sumption that  the  abnormal  by-paths  of  the  libido  discovered  in 
neurotic  people  are  the  same  phenomena  as  are  to  be  found  in 
children. 

THE  INFANTILE  AMNESIA  CRITICIZED 

The  so-called  amnesia  of  childhood,  which  plays  an  impor- 
tant part  in  the  "Three  Contributions,"  is  a  similar  illegitimate 
retrograde  application  from  pathology.  Amnesia  is  a  patholog- 
ical condition,  consisting  in  the  repression  of  certain  contents  of 
the  conscious.  This  condition  cannot  possibly  be  the  same  as  the 
antegrade  amnesia  of  children,  which  consists  in  an  incapacity  for 
intentional  reproduction,  a  condition  we  find  also  among  savages. 
This  incapacity  for  reproduction  dates  from  birth,  and  can  be 
understood  on  obvious  anatomical  and  biological  grounds.  It 
would  be  a  strange  hypothesis  were  we  willing  to  regard  this 
totally  different  quality  of  early  infantile  consciousness  as  one  to 
be  attributed  to  repression,  in  analogy  with  the  condition  in 
neurosis.  The  amnesia  of  neurosis  is  punched  out,  as  it  were, 
from  the  continuity  of  memory,  but  the  remembrances  of  earlier 
childhood  exist  in  separate  islands  in  the  continuity  of  the  non- 
memory.  This  condition  is  the  opposite  in  every  sense  of  the 
condition  of  neurosis,  so  that  the  expression  "amnesia,"  gener- 
ally used  for  this  condition,  is  incorrect.  The  "  amnesia  of  child- 
hood" is  a  conclusion  a  posteriori  from  the  psychology  of  neu- 
rosis, just  as  is  the  "  polymorphic  perverse  "  disposition  of  the 
child. 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  79 

THE  LATENT  SEXUAL  PERIOD  CRITICIZED 

This  error  in  the  theoretical  conception  is  shown  clearly  in  the 
so-called  latent  sexual  period  of  childhood.  Freud  has  remarked 
that  the  early  infantile  so-called  sexual  manifestations,  which  I 
now  call  the  phenomena  of  the  pre-sexual  stage,  vanish  after  a 
while,  and  only  reappear  much  later.  Everything  that  Freud 
has  termed  the  "  suckling's  masturbation,"  that  is  to  say,  all  those 
sexual-like  actions  of  which  we  spoke  before,  are  said  to  return 
later  as  real  onanism.  Such  a  process  of  development  would  be 
biologically  unique.  In  conformity  with  this  theory  one  would 
have  to  say,  for  instance,  that  when  a  plant  forms  a  bud,  from 
which  a  blossom  begins  to  unfold,  the  blossom  is  taken  back 
again  before  it  is  fully  developed,  and  is  again  hidden  within  the 
bud,  to  reappear  later  on  in  the  same  form.  This  impossible  sup- 
position is  a  consequence  of  the  assertion  that  the  early  infantile 
activities  of  the  pre-sexual  stage  are  sexual  phenomena,  and  that 
those  manifestations,  which  resemble  masturbation,  are  genuinely 
acts  of  masturbation.  In  this  way  Freud  had  to  assert  that  there 
is  a  disappearance  of  sexuality,  or,  as  he  calls  it,  a  latent  sexual 
period.  What  he  calls  a  disappearance  of  sexuality  is  nothing 
but  the  real  beginning  of  sexuality,  everything  preceding  was  but 
the  fore-stage  to  which  no  real  sexual  character  can  be  imputed. 
In  this  way,  the  impossible  phenomenon  of  the  latent  period  is 
very  simply  explained.  This  theory  of  the  latent  sexual  period 
is  a  striking  instance  of  the  incorrectness  of  the  conception  of  the 
early  infantile  sexuality.  But  there  has  been  no  error  of  obser- 
vation. On  the  contrary,  the  hypothesis  of  the  latent  sexual 
period  proves  how  exactly  Freud  noticed  the  apparent  recom- 
mencement of  sexuality.  The  error  lies  in  the  conception.  As 
we  saw  before,  the  first  mistake  consists  in  a  somewhat  old- 
fashioned  conception  of  the  multiplicity  of  instincts.  If  we  ac- 
cept the  idea  of  two  or  more  instincts  existing  side  by  side,  we 
must  naturally  conclude  that,  if  one  instinct  has  not  yet  become 
manifest,  it  is  present  in  nuce  in  accordance  with  the  theory  of 
pre-formation.  In  the  physical  sphere  we  should  perhaps  have 
to  say  that,  when  a  piece  of  iron  passes  from  the  condition  of 
heat  to  the  condition  of  light,  the  light  was  already  existent  in 
nuce  (latent)  in  the  heat.  Such  assumptions  are  arbitrary  pro- 


8o  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

jections  of  human  ideas  into  transcendental  regions,  contravening 
the  prescription  of  the  theory  of  cognition. 

We  have  thus  no  right  to  speak  of  a  sexual  instinct  existing 
in  nuce,  as  we  then  give  an  arbitrary  explanation  of  phenomena 
which  can  be  explained  otherwise,  and  in  a  more  adequate 
manner.  We  can  speak  of  the  manifestations  of  a  nutrition  in- 
stinct, of  the  manifestations  of  a  sexual  instinct,  etc.,  but  we  have 
only  the  right  to  do  so  when  the  function  has  quite  clearly  reached 
the  surface.  We  only  speak  of  light  when  the  iron  is  visibly 
luminous,  but  not  when  the  iron  is  merely  hot.  Freud,  as  an 
observer,  sees  clearly  that  the  sexuality  of  neurotic  people  is  not 
entirely  comparable  with  infantile  sexuality,  for  there  is  a  great 
difference,  for  instance,  between  the  uncleanliness  of  a  child  of 
two  years  old  and  the  uncleanliness  of  a  katatonic  patient  of 
forty.  The  former  is  a  psychological  and  normal  phenomenon; 
the  latter  is  extraordinarily  pathological.  Freud  inserted  a  short 
passage  in  his  "  Three  Contributions "  saying  that  the  infantile 
form  of  neurotic  sexuality  is  either  wholly,  or  at  any  rate  partly, 
due  to  a  regression.  That  is,  even  in  those  cases  where  we  might 
say,  these  are  still  the  same  by-paths,  we  find  that  the  function  of 
the  by-paths  is  still  increased  by  regression.  Freud  thus  recog- 
nizes that  the  infantile  sexuality  of  neurotic  people  is  -for  the 
greater  part  a  regressive  phenomenon.  That  this  must  be  so  is 
also  shown  through  the  further  insight  obtained  from  the  investi- 
gations of  recent  years,  that  the  observations  concerning  the  psy- 
chology of  the  childhood  of  neurotic  people  hold  equally  good 
for  normal  people.  At  any  rate  we  can  say  that  the  history  of 
the  development  of  infantile  sexuality  in  persons  with  neurosis 
differs  but  by  a  hair's  breadth  from  that  of  normal  beings  who 
have  escaped  the  attention  of  the  expert  appraiser.  Striking 
differences  are  exceptional. 

FURTHER  REMARKS  ON  THE  ETIOLOGY  OF  NEUROSIS 

The  more  we  penetrate  into  the  heart  of  infantile  develop- 
ment, the  more  we  receive  the  impression  that  as  little  can  be 
found  there  of  etiological  significance,  as  in  the  infantile  shock. 
Even  with  the  acutest  ferreting  into  history,  we  shall  never  dis- 
cover why  people  living  on  German  soil  had  just  such  a  fate,  and 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  8 1 

why  the  Gauls  another.  The  further  we  get  away,  in  analytical 
investigations  from  the  epoch  of  the  manifest  neurosis,  the  less 
can  we  expect  to  find  the  real  motive  of  the  neurosis,  since  the 
dynamic  disproportions  grow  fainter  and  fainter  the  further  we 
go  back  into  the  past.  In  constructing  our  theory  so  as  to  deduce 
the  neurosis  from  causes  in  the  distant  past,  we  are  first  and 
foremost  obeying  the  impulse  of  our  patients  to  withdraw  them- 
selves as  far  as  possible  from  the  critical  present.  The  patho- 
genic conflict  exists  only  in  the  present  moment.  It  is  just  as  if 
a  nation  wanted  to  regard  its  miserable  political  conditions  at  the 
actual  moment  as  due  to  the  past ;  as  if  the  Germany  of  the  iQth 
century  had  attributed  its  political  dismemberment  and  incapacity 
to  its  suppression  by  the  Romans,  instead  of  having  sought  the 
actual  sources  of  her  difficulties  in  the  present.  Only  in  the 
actual  present  are  the  effective  causes,  and  only  here  are  the  pos- 
sibilities of  removing  them. 

THE  ETIOLOGICAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  ACTUAL  PRESENT 

A  greater  part  of  the  psychoanalytic  school  is  under  the  spell 
of  the  conception  that  the  conflicts  of  childhood  are  conditio  sine 
qua  non  for  the  neuroses.  It  is  not  only  the  theorist,  who  studies 
the  psychology  of  childhood  from  scientific  interest,  but  the  prac- 
tical man  also,  who  believes  that  he  has  to  turn  the  history  of 
infancy  inside  out  to  find  there  the  dynamic  source  of  the  actual 
neurosis — it  were  a  fruitless  enterprise  if  done  under  this  pre- 
sumption. In  the  meantime,  the  most  important  factor  escapes 
the  analyst,  namely,  the  conflict  and  the  claims  of  the  present 
time.  In  the  case  before  us,  we  should  not  understand  any  of 
the  motives  which  produced  the  hysterical  attacks  if  we  looked 
for  them  in  earliest  childhood.  It  is  the  form  alone  which  those 
reminiscences  determine  to  a  large  extent,  but  the  dynamic 
originates  from  the  present  time.  The  insight  into  the  actual 
meaning  of  these  motives  is  real  understanding. 

We  can  now  understand  why  that  moment  was  pathogenic, 
as  well  as  why  it  chose  those  particular  symbols.  Through  the 
conception  of  regression,  the  theory  is  freed  from  the  narrow 
formula  of  the  importance  of  the  events  in  childhood,  and  the 
actual  conflict  thus  gets  that  significance  which,  from  an  empirical 
standpoint,  belongs  to  it  implicitly.  Freud  himself  introduced 


82  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

the  conception  of  regression  in  his  "  Three  Contributions,"  ac- 
knowledging rightly  that  our  observations  do  not  permit  us  to 
seek  the  cause  of  neurosis  exclusively  in  the  past.  If  it  is  true, 
then,  that  reminiscent  matter  becomes  active  again  as  a  rule  by 
regression,  we  have  to  consider  the  following  question :  Have,  per- 
haps, the  apparent  effective  results  of  reminiscences  to  be  re- 
ferred in  general  to  a  regression  of  the  libido?  As  I  said  before, 
Freud  suggested  in  his  "  Three  Contributions,"  that  the  infantil- 
ism of  neurotic  sexuality  was,  for  the  greater  part,  due  to  the 
regression  of  the  libido.  This  statement  deserves  greater  prom- 
inence than  it  there  received.  Freud  did  give  it  this  prominence 
in  his  later  works  to  a  somewhat  greater  extent. 

The  recognition  of  the  regression  of  the  libido  very  largely 
reduces  the  etiological  significance  of  the  events  of  childhood. 
It  has  already  seemed  to  us  rather  astonishing  that  the  CEdipus- 
or  the  Electra-complex  should  have  a  determining  value  in  regard 
to  the  onset  of  a  neurosis,  since  these  complexes  exist  in  every- 
one. They  exist  even  with  those  persons  who  have  never  known 
their  own  father  and  mother,  but  have  been  educated  by  their 
step-parents.  I  have  analyzed  cases  of  this  kind,  and  found  that 
the  incest-complex  was  as  well  developed  as  in  other  patients.  It 
seems  to  us  that  this  is  good  proof  that  the  incest-complex  is 
much  more  a  purely  regressive  production  of  phantasies  than  a 
reality.  From  this  standpoint,  the  events  in  childhood  are  only 
significant  for  the  neuroses  in  so  far  as  they  are  revived  later 
through  a  regression  of  the  libido.  That  this  must  be  true  to  a 
great  extent  is  also  shown  by  the  fact  that  the  infantile  sexual 
shock  never  causes  hysteria,  nor  does  the  incest-complex,  which 
is  common  to  everyone.  The  neurosis  only  begins  as  soon  as 
the  incest-complex  becomes  actuated  by  regression. 

So  we  come  to  the  question,  why  does  the  libido  make  a 
regression?  To  answer  it  we  must  study  carefully  under  what 
circumstances  regression  arises.  In  treating  this  problem  with 
my  patients,  I  generally  give  the  following  example:  While  a 
.mountain  climber  is  attempting  the  ascent  of  a  certain  peak,  he 
happens  to  meet  with  an  insurmountable  obstacle,  let  us  say,  some 
precipitous  rocky  wall  which  cannot  be  surmounted.  After  hav- 
ing vainly  sought  for  another  path,  he  will  have  to  return  and 
regretfully  abandon  the  climbing  of  that  peak.  He  will  say  to 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  83 

himself :  "  It  is  not  in  my  power  to  surmount  this  difficulty,  so 
I  will  climb  another  easier  mountain."  In  this  case,  we  find 
there  is  a  normal  utilization  of  the  libido.  The  man  returns, 
when  he  finds  an  insurmountable  difficulty,  and  uses  his  libido, 
which  could  not  attain  its  original  aim,  for  the  ascent  of  another 
mountain.  Now  let  us  imagine  that  this  rocky  wall  was  not 
really  unclimbable  so  far  as  his  physique  was  concerned,  but  that 
from  mere  nervousness  he  withdrew  from  this  somewhat  difficult 
enterprise.  In  this  case,  there  are  two  possibilities :  I.  The  man 
will  be  annoyed  by  his  own  cowardice,  and  will  wish  to  prove 
himself  less  timid  on  another  occasion,  or  perhaps  will  even 
admit  that  with  his  timidity  he  ought  never  to  undertake  such  a 
difficult  ascent.  At  any  rate,  he  will  acknowledge  that  he  has  not 
sufficient  moral  capacity  for  these  difficulties.  He  therefore  uses 
that  libido,  which  did  not  attain  its  original  aim,  for  a  useful 
self-criticism,  and  for  sketching  a  plan  by  which  he  may  be  able, 
with  due  regard  to  his  moral  capacity,  to  realize  his  wish  to 
climb.  II.  The  possibility  is,  that  the  man  does  not  realize  his 
own  cowardice,  and  declares  off-hand  that  this  mountain  is 
physically  unattainable,  although  he  is  quite  able  to  see  that,  with 
sufficient  courage,  the  obstacle  could  have  been  overcome.  But 
he  prefers  to  deceive  himself.  Thus  the  psychological  situation 
which  is  of  importance  for  our  problem  is  created. 

THE  ETIOLOGICAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  FAILURE  OF  ADAPTATION 

Probably  this  man  knows  very  well  that  it  would  have  been 
physically  possible  to  overcome  the  difficulty,  that  he  was  only 
morally  incapable  of  doing  so.  He  rejects  this  idea  on  account 
of  its  painful  nature.  He  is  so  conceited  that  he  cannot  admit  to 
himself  his  cowardice.  He  brags  of  his  courage  and  prefers  to 
declare  things  impossible  rather  than  his  own  courage  inadequate. 
But  through  this  behavior  he  comes  into  opposition  with  his  own 
self:  on  the  one  hand  he  has  a  right  view  of  the  situation,  on 
the  other  he  hides  this  knowledge  from  himself,  behind  the  illusion 
of  his  infallible  courage.  He  represses  the  proper  view,  and 
forcibly  tries  to  impress  his  subjective,  illusive  opinion  upon 
reality.  The  result  of  this  contradiction  is  that  the  libido  is 
divided,  and  that  the  two  parts  are  directed  against  one  another. 
He  opposes  his  wish  to  climb  a  mountain  by  his  artificial  self- 


84  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

created  opinion,  that  its  ascent  is  impossible.  He  does  not  turn 
to  the  real  impossibility,  but  to  an  artificial  one,  to  a  self-given 
limitation ;  thus  he  is  in  disharmony  with  himself,  and  from  this 
moment  has  an  internal  conflict.  Now  insight  into  his  cowardice 
will  get  the  upper  hand ;  now  obstinacy  and  pride.  In  either  case 
the  libido  is  engaged  in  a  useless  civil  war.  Thus  the  man  be- 
comes incapable  of  any  enterprise.  He  will  never  realize  his 
wish  to  climb  a  mountain,  and  he  goes  perfectly  astray  as  to  his 
moral  qualities.  He  is  therefore  less  capable  of  performing  his 
work,  he  is  not  fully  adapted,  he  can  be  compared  to  a  neurotic 
patient.  The  libido  which  withdrew  from  before  this  difficulty 
has  neither  led  to  honest  self-criticism,  nor  to  a  desperate  struggle 
to  overcome  the  obstacle;  it  has  only  been  used  to  maintain  his 
cheap  pretence  that  the  ascent  was  really  impossible,  even  heroic 
courage  could  have  availed  nothing.  Such  a  reaction  is  called 
an  infantile  reaction.  It  is  very  characteristic  of  children,  and 
of  naive  minds,  not  to  find  the  fault  in  their  own  shortcomings, 
but  in  external  circumstances,  and  to  impute  to  these  their  own 
subjective  judgment.  This  man  solves  his  problem  in  an  infan- 
tile way,  that  is,  he  replaces  the  suitable  mode  of  adaptation  of 
our  former  case  by  a  mode  of  adaptation  belonging  to  the  infan- 
tile mind.  This  is  regression.  His  libido  withdraws  from  an 
obstacle  which  cannot  be  surmounted,  and  replaces  a  real  action 
by  an  infantile  illusion.  These  cases  are  very  commonly  met 
with  in  practice  among  neurotics.  I  will  remind  you  here  of 
those  well-known  cases  in  which  young  girls  become  hysterical 
with  curious  suddenness  just  when  they  are  called  upon  to 
decide  about  their  engagements.  As  an  instance,  I  should  like 
to  describe  to  you  the  case  of  two  sisters,  separated  only  by  one 
year  in  age.  They  were  similar  in  capacities  and  characters ;  their 
education  was  the  same ;  they  grew  up  in  the  same  surroundings, 
and  under  the  influence  of  their  parents.  Both  were  healthy; 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other  showed  any  nervous  symptoms. 
An  attentive  observer  might  have  discovered  that  the  elder 
daughter  was  the  more  beloved  by  the  parents.  This  affection 
depended  on  a  certain  sensitiveness  which  this  daughter  showed. 
She  asked  for  more  affection  than  the  younger  one,  was  also 
somewhat  precocious  and  more  serious.  Besides,  she  showed 
some  charming  childish  traits,  just  those  things  which,  through 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  85 

their  slightly  capricious  and  unbalanced  character,  make  a  per- 
sonality especially  charming.  No  wonder  that  father  and 
mother  had  a  great  joy  in  their  elder  daughter.  As  both  sisters 
became  of  marriageable  age,  almost  at  the  same  time  they  became 
intimately  acquainted  with  two  young  men,  and  the  possibility 
of  their  marriages  soon  approached.  As  is  generally  the  case, 
certain  difficulties  existed.  Both  girls  were  young  and  had  very 
little  experience  of  the  world.  Both  men  were  relatively  young 
too,  and  in  positions  which  might  have  been  better;  they  were 
only  at  the  beginning  of  a  career,  but  nevertheless,  both  were 
capable  young  men.  Both  girls  lived  in  a  social  atmosphere  which 
gave  them  the  right  to  certain  social  expectations.  It  was  a 
situation  in  which  a  certain  doubt  as  to  the  suitability  of  either 
marriage  was  permissible.  Moreover,  both  girls  were  insuffi- 
ciently acquainted  with  their  prospective  husbands,  and  were 
therefore  not  quite  sure  of  their  love.  There  were  many  hesita- 
tions and  doubts.  Here  it  was  noticed  that  the  elder  girl  always 
showed  greater  waverings  in  her  decisions.  From  these  hesita- 
tions some  painful  moments  arose  between  the  girls  and  the 
young  men,  who  naturally  longed  for  more  certainty.  At  such 
moments  the  elder  sister  was  much  more  excited  than  the  younger 
one.  Several  times  she  went  weeping  to  her  mother,  complaining 
of  her  own  hesitation.  The  younger  one  was  somewhat  more 
decided,  and  put  an  end  to  the  unsettled  situation  by  accepting 
her  suitor.  She  thus  got  over  her  difficulty  and  the  further 
events  ran  smoothly.  As  soon  as  the  admirer  of  the  elder  sister 
became  aware  that  the  younger  one  had  put  matters  on  a  surer 
footing,  he  rushed  to  his  lady  and  begged  in  a  somewhat  passion- 
ate way  for  her  acceptance.  His  passion  irritated  and  frightened 
her  a  little,  although  she  was  really  inclined  to  follow  her  sister's 
example.  She  answered  in  a  somewhat  haughty  and  offhand  way. 
He  replied  with  sharp  reproaches,  causing  her  to  get  still  more 
excited.  The  end  was  a  scene  with  tears,  and  he  went  away  in 
an  angry  mood.  At  home,  he  told  the  story  to  his  mother,  who 
expressed  the  opinion  that  this  girl  was  really  unsuitable  for  him, 
and  that  it  would  be  perhaps  better  to  choose  some  one  else.  The 
girl,  for  her  part,  doubted  very  much  if  she  really  loved  this  man. 
It  suddenly  seemed  to  her  impossible  to  follow  him  to  an  unknown 
destiny,  and  to  be  obliged  to  leave  her  beloved  parents.  From 


86  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

that  moment,  she  was  depressed ;  she  showed  unmistakable  signs 
of  the  greatest  jealousy  towards  her  sister,  but  would  neither  see 
nor  admit  that  she  was  jealous.  The  former  affectionate  rela- 
tions with  her  parents  changed  also.  Instead  of  her  earlier 
childlike  affection,  she  betrayed  a  lamentable  state  of  mind,  which 
increased  sometimes  to  pronounced  irritability ;  weeks  of  depres- 
sion ensued.  Whilst  the  younger  sister  celebrated  her  wedding, 
the  elder  went  to  a  distant  health-resort  for  a  nervous  intestinal 
trouble.  I  shall  not  continue  the  history  of  the  disease ;  it  ended 
in  an  ordinary  hysteria. 

In  analyzing  this  case,  great  resistance  to  the  sexual  problem 
was  found.  The  resistance  depended  on  many  perverse  phan- 
tasies, the  existence  of  which  would  not  be  admitted  by  the 
patient.  The  question,  whence  arose  such  perverse  phantasies, 
so  unexpected  in  a  young  girl,  brought  us  to  the  discovery  that 
once  as  a  child,  eight  years  old,  she  had  found  herself  suddenly 
confronted  in  the  street  by  an  exhibitionist.  She  was  rooted  to 
the  spot  by  fright,  and  even  much  later  ugly  images  persecuted 
her  in  her  dreams.  Her  younger  sister  was  with  her  a.t  the  time. 
The  night  after  the  patient  told  me  this,  she  dreamed  of  a  man 
in  a  gray  suit,  who  seemed  about  to  do  in  front  of  her  what  the 
exhibitionist  had  done.  She  awoke  with  a  cry  of  terror.  The 
first  association  to  the  gray  suit  was  a  suit  of  her  father's,  which 
he  had  been  wearing  on  an  excursion  which  she  made  with  him 
when  she  was  about  six  years  old.  This  dream  connects  the 
father,  without  any  doubt,  with  the  exhibitionist.  This  must  be 
done  for  some  reason.  Did  something  happen  with  the  father, 
which  could  possibly  call  forth  this  association?  This  problem 
met  with  great  resistance  from  the  patient.  But  she  could  not 
get  rid  of  it.  At  the  next  sitting  she  reproduced  some  early 
reminiscences,  when  she  had  noticed  her  father  undressing  him- 
self. Again,  she  came  one  day  excited  and  terribly  shaken,  and 
told  me  that  she  had  had  an  abominable  vision,  absolutely  distinct. 
In  bed  at  night,  she  felt  herself  again  a  child  of  two  or  three  years 
old,  and  she  saw  her  father  standing  by  her  bed  in  an  obscene 
attitude.  The  story  was  gasped  out  piece  by  piece,  obviously  with 
the  greatest  internal  struggle.  This  was  followed  by  violent 
reproaches,  of  how  dreadful  it  is  that  a  father  should  ever  behave 
to  his  child  in  such  a  terrible  manner. 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  87 

Nothing  is  less  probable  than  that  the  father  really  did  this. 
It  is  only  a  phantasy,  probably  first  constructed  in  the  course  of 
the  analysis  from  that  same  need  of  discovering  a  cause  which 
once  induced  the  physician  to  form  the  theory  that  hysteria  was 
only  caused  by  such  impressions.  This  case  seemed  to  me  suit- 
able to  demonstrate  the  meaning  of  the  theory  of  regression,  and 
to  show  at  the  same  time  the  source  of  the  theoretical  mistakes 
so  far.  We  saw  that  both  sisters  were  originally  only  slightly 
different.  From  the  moment  of  the  engagement  their  ways  were 
totally  separated.  They  seemed  now  to  have  quite  different  char- 
acters. The  one,  vigorous  in  health,  and  enjoying  life,  was  a 
good  and  courageous  woman,  willing  to  undertake  the  natural 
demands  of  life;  the  other  was  sad,  ill-tempered,  full  of  bitterness 
and  malice,  disinclined  to  make  any  effort  towards  a  reasonable 
life,  egotistical,  quibbling,  and  a  nuisance  to  all  about  her.  This 
striking  difference  was  only  brought  out  when  the  one  sister 
happily  passed  through  the  difficulties  of  her  engagement,  whilst 
the  other  did  not.  For  both,  it  hung  to  a  certain  extent  only  on  a 
hair,  whether  the  affair  would  be  broken  off  or  not.  The 
younger  one,  somewhat  calmer,  was  therefore  more  deliberate, 
and  able  to  find  the  right  word  at  the  right  moment.  The  elder 
one  was  more  spoiled  and  more  sensitive,  consequently  more  in- 
fluenced by  her  emotions,  and  could  not  find  the  right  word,  nor 
had  she  the  courage  to  sacrifice  her  pride  to  put  things  straight 
afterwards.  This  little  circumstance  had  a  very  important  effect. 
Originally  the  conditions  were  much  the  same  for  both  sisters. 
The  greater  sensitiveness  of  the  elder  produced  the  difference. 
The  question  now  is:  Whence  arose  this  sensitiveness  with  its 
unfortunate  results?  The  analysis  demonstrated  the  existence  of 
an  extraordinarily  developed  sexuality  of  infantile  phantastic 
character ;  in  addition,  an  incestuous  phantasy  towards  the  father. 
We  have  a  quick  and  easy  solution  of  the  problem  of  this  sensi- 
tiveness, if  we  admit  that  these  phantasies  had  a  lively,  and  there- 
fore effective  existence.  We  might  thus  readily  understand  why 
this  girl  was  so  sensitive.  She  was  shut  up  in  her  own  phantasies 
and  strongly  attached  to  her  father.  Under  these  circumstances, 
it  would  have  been  really  a  wonder  had  she  been  willing  to  love 
and  marry  another  man.  The  more  we  pursue  our  need  for  a 
causation,  and  pursue  the  development  of  these  phantasies  back 


88  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

to  their  beginning,  the  greater  grow  the  difficulties  of  the  analysis, 
that  is  to  say,  the  resistances  as  we  call  them.  At  the  end  we 
should  find  that  impressive  scene,  that  obscene  act,  whose  im- 
probability has  already  been  established.  This  scene  has  exactly 
the  character  of  a  subsequent  phantastic  formation.  Therefore, 
we  have  to  conceive  these  difficulties,  which  we  called  "  resist- 
ances," at  least  in  this  part  of  the  analysis,  as  an  opposition  of 
the  patient  against  the  formation  of  such  phantasies,  and  not 
as  a  resistance  against  the  conscious  admittance  of  a  painful 
remembrance. 

You  will  ask  with  astonishment,  to  what  aim  the  patient  con- 
trives such  a  phantasy  ?  You  will  even  be  inclined  to  suggest  that 
the  physician  forced  the  patient  to  invent  it,  otherwise  she  would 
probably  never  have  produced  such  an  absurd  idea.  I  do  not 
venture  to  doubt  that  there  have  been  cases  in  which,  by  dint  of 
the  physician's  desire  to  find  a  cause,  especially  under  the  influence 
of  the  shock-theory,  the  patient  has  been  brought  to  contrive 
such  phantasies.  But  the  physician  would  never  have  come  to 
this  theory,  had  he  not  followed  the  patient's  line  of  thought,  thus 
taking  part  in  this  retrograde  movement  of  the  libido  which  we 
call  regression.  The  physician,  consequently,  only  carried  right 
through  to  its  consequence  what  the  patient  was  afraid  to  carry 
out,  namely,  a  regression,  a  falling  back  of  the  libido  to  its  former 
desires.  The  analysis,  in  following  the  libido-regression,  does 
not  always  follow  the  exact  way  marked  by  its  historical  develop- 
ment, but  very  often  rather  a  later  phantasy,  which  only  partly 
depends  on  former  realities.  In  our  case,  only  some  of  the  cir- 
cumstances are  real,  and  it  is  but  much  later  that  they  get  their 
-great  importance,  namely,  at  the  moment  when  the  libido  re- 
gresses. Wherever  the  libido  takes  hold  of  a  reminiscence,  we 
may  expect  that  this  reminiscence  will  be  elaborated  and  altered, 
as  everything  that  is  touched  by  the  libido  revives,  takes  on 
jdramatic  form,  and  becomes  systematized.  We  have  to  admit 
that,  in  our  case,  almost  the  greater  part  of  these  phantasies  be- 
came significant  subsequently,  after  the  libido  had  made  a  regres- 
sion, after  it  had  taken  hold  of  everything  that  could  be  suitable, 
and  had  made  out  of  all  this  a  phantasy.  Then  that  phantasy, 
keeping  pace  with  the  retrograde  movement  of  the  libido,  came 
back  at  last  to  the  father  and  put  upon  him  all  the  infantile 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  89 

sexual  desires.  Even  so  it  was  thought  in  ancient  times  that  the 
golden  age  of  Paradise  lay  in  the  past!  In  the  case  before  us  we 
know  that  all  the  phantasies  brought  out  by  analysis  did  become 
subsequently  of  importance.  From  this  standpoint  only,  we  are 
not  able  to  explain  the  beginning  of  the  neurosis ;  we  should  con- 
stantly move  in  a  circle.  The  critical  moment  for  this  neurosis 
was  that  in  which  the  girl  and  man  were  inclined  to  love  one 
another,  but  in  which  an  inopportune  sensitiveness  on  the  part  of 
the  patient  caused  the  opportunity  to  slip  by. 

The  Conception  of  Sensitiveness. — We  might  say,  and  the 
psychoanalytical  conception  inclines  in  this  direction,  that  this 
critical  sensitiveness  arises  from  some  peculiar  psychological  per- 
sonal history,  which  determined  this  end.  We  know  that  such 
sensitiveness  in  a  psychogenic  neurosis  is  always  a  symptom  of  a 
discord  within  the  subject's  self,  a  symptom  of  a  struggle  between 
two  divergent  tendencies.  Both  tendencies  have  their  own  pre- 
vious psychological  story.  In  this  case,  we  are  able  to  show  that 
this  special  resistance,  the  content  of  that  critical  sensitiveness, 
is,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  connected  in  the  patient's  previous  history, 
with  certain  infantile  sexual  manifestations,  and  also  with  that 
so-called  traumatic  event — all  things  which  are  capable  of  casting 
a  shadow  on  sexuality.  This  would  be  so  far  plausible  if  the 
sister  of  the  patient  had  not  lived  more  or  less  the  same  life,  with- 
out experiencing  all  these  consequences.  I  mean,  she  did  not 
develop  a  neurosis.  So  we  have  to  agree  that  the  patient  ex- 
perienced these  things  in  a  special  way,  perhaps  more  intensely 
than  the  younger  one.  Perhaps  also,  the  events  of  her  earlier 
childhood  were  to  her  of  a  disproportionate  importance.  But  if 
it  had  been  the  case  to  such  a  marked  extent,  something  of  it 
would  surely  have  been  noticed  earlier.  In  later  youth,  the 
earlier  events  of  childhood  were  as  much  forgotten  by  the  patient 
as  by  her  sister.  Another  supposition  is  therefore  possible.  This 
critical  sensitiveness  is  not  the  consequence  of  the  special  pre- 
vious past  history,  but  springs  from  something  that  had  existed 
all  along.  A  careful  observer  of  small  children  can  notice,  even 
in  early  infancy,  any  unusual  sensitiveness.  I  once  analyzed  a 
hysterical  patient  who  showed  me  a  letter  written  by  her  mother 
when  this  patient  was  two  and  a  half  years  old.  Her  mother 
wrote  about  her  and  her  sister.  The  elder  was  always  good- 


90  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

tempered  and  enterprising,  but  the  other  was  always  in  difficul- 
ties with  both  people  and  things.  The  first  one  became  in  later 
life  hysterical,  the  other  one  katatonic.  These  far-reaching  dif- 
ferences, which  go  back  into  earliest  childhood,  cannot  depend 
on  the  more  or  less  accidental  events  of  life,  but  have  to  be  con- 
sidered as  being  innate  differences.  From  this  point  of  view, 
we  cannot  any  longer  pretend  that  her  special  previous  psycho- 
logical history  caused  this  sensitiveness  at  that  critical  moment; 
it  would  be  more  correct  to  say:  This  innate  sensitiveness  is 
manifested  most  distinctly  in  uncommon  situations. 

This  surplus  of  sensitiveness  is  found  very  often  as  an  enrich- 
ment of  a  personality  contributing  even  more  to  the  charm  of  the 
character  than  to  its  detriment.  But  in  difficult  and  uncommon 
situations  the  advantage  very  often  turns  into  a  disadvantage,  as 
the  inopportunely  excited  emotion  renders  calm  consideration  im- 
posible.  Nothing  could  be  more  incorrect  than  to  consider  this 
sensitiveness  as  eo  ipso  a  morbid  constituent  of  a  character.  If 
it  really  were  so,  we  should  have  to  regard  at  least  one  third  of 
humanity  as  pathological.  Only  if  the  consequences  of  this  sen- 
sitiveness are  destructive  to  the  individual  have  we  a  right  to 
consider  this  quality  as  abnormal. 

Primary  Sensitiveness  and  Regression. — We  come  to  this  diffi- 
culty when  we  crudely  oppose  the  two  conceptions  as  to  the  sig- 
nificance of  the  previous  psychological  history  as  we  have  done 
here;  in  reality,  the  two  are  not  mutually  exclusive.  A  certain 
innate  sensitiveness  leads  to  a  special  psychological  history,  to 
special  reactions  to  infantile  events,  which  are  not  without  their 
own  influence  on  the  development  of  the  childish  conception  of 
life.  Events  bound  up  with  powerful  impressions  can  never  pass 
without  leaving  some  trace  on  sensitive  people.  Some  of  these 
often  remain  effective  throughout  life,  and  such  events  can  exert 
an  apparently  determining  influence  on  the  whole  mental  develop- 
ment. Dirty  and  disillusional  experiences  in  the  domain  of 
sexuality  are  specially  apt  to  frighten  a  sensitive  person  for  years 
and  years.  Under  these  conditions,  the  mere  thought  of  sexu- 
ality raises  the  greatest  resistances.  As  the  creation  of  the 
shock-theory  proved,  we  are  too  much  inclined,  in  consequence  of 
our  knowledge  of  such  cases,  to  attribute  the  emotional  develop- 
ment of  a  person  more  or  less  to  accidents.  The  earlier  shock- 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  91 

theory  went  too  far  in  this  respect.  We  must  never  forget  that 
the  world  is,  in  the  first  place,  a  subjective  phenomenon.  The 
impressions  we  receive  -from  these  happenings  are  also  our  own 
doing.  It  is  not  the  case  that  the  impressions  are  forced  on  us 
unconditionally,  but  our  disposition  gives  the  value  to  the  impres- 
sions. A  man  with  stored-up  libido  will  as  a  rule  have  quite 
different  impressions,  much  more  vivid  impressions,  than  one 
who  organizes  his  libido  into  a  rich  activity.  Such  a  sensitive 
person  will  have  a  more  profound  impression  from  certain  events 
which  might  harmlessly  pass  over  a  less  sensitive  subject.  There- 
fore, in  conjunction  with  the  accidental  impression,  we  have  to 
consider  seriously  the  subjective  conditions.  Our  former  con- 
siderations, and  the  observation  of  the  concrete  case  especially, 
show  us  that  the  important  subjective  condition  is  the  regression. 
It  is  shown  by  experience  in  practice,  that  the  effect  of  regression  / 
is  so  enormous,  so  important  and  so  impressive,  that  we  might 
perhaps  be  inclined  to  attribute  the  effect  of  accidental  events  to 
the  mechanism  of  regression  only.  Without  any  doubt,  there  are 
cases  in  which  everything  is  dramatized,  where  even  the  trau- 
matic events  are  artefacts  of  the  imagination,  and  in  which  the 
few  real  events  are  subsequently  entirely  distorted  through  phan- 
tastic  elaboration.  We  can  simply  say,  that  there  is  not  a  single 
case  of  neurosis,  in  which  the  emotional  value  of  the  preceding 
event  is  not  considerably  aggravated  through  the  regression  of 
libido,  and  even  where  great  parts  of  the  infantile  development 
seem  to  be  of  extraordinary  importance,  they  only  gain  this 
through  regression. 

As  is  always  the  case,  truth  is  found  in  the  middle.  The 
previous  history  has  certainly  a  determining  historic  value,  which 
is  reinforced  by  the  regression.  Sometimes  the  traumatic  sig- 
nificance of  the  previous  history  comes  more  into  the  foreground ; 
sometimes  only  the  regressive  meaning.  These  observations  have 
naturally  to  be  applied  to  the  infantile  sexual  events  too.  Obvi- 
ously there  are  cases  in  which  brutal  sexual  accidents  justify  the 
shadow  thrown  on  sexuality,  and  explain  thoroughly  the  later 
resistance  of  the  individual  towards  sexuality.  Dreadful  im- 
pressions other  than  sexual  can  also  sometimes  leave  behind  a 
permanent  feeling  of  insecurity,  which  may  determine  the  indi- 
vidual in  a  hesitating  attitude  towards  reality.  Where  real  events 


9 2  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

of  undoubted  traumatic  potentiality  are  wanting — as  is  generally 
the  case  with  neurosis — there  the  mechanism  of  regression  pre- 
vails. Of  course,  you  could  object  that  we  have  no  criterion  for 
the  potential  effect  of  the  trauma  or  shock,  as  this  is  a  highly 
relative  conception.  It  is  not  quite  so ;  we  have  in  the  standard 
of  the  average  normal  a  criterion  for  the  potential  effect  of  a 
shock.  Whatever  is  capable  of  making  a  strong  and  persistent 
impression  upon  a  normal  person  must  be  considered  as  having 
a  determining  influence  for  neurotics  also.  But  we  may  not 
straightway  attribute  any  importance,  even  in  neurosis,  to  im- 
pressions which  in  a  normal  case  would  disappear  and  be  for- 
gotten. In  most  of  the  cases  where  any  event  has  an  unexpected 
traumatic  influence,  we  shall  find  in  all  probability  a  regression, 
that  is  to  say,  a  secondary  phantastic  dramatization.  The  earlier 
in  childhood  an  impression  is  said  to  have  arisen,  the  more  suspi- 
cious is  its  reality.  Animals  and  primitive  people  have  not  that 
readiness  in  reproducing  memories  from  a  single  impression  which 
we  find  among  civilized  people.  Very  young  children  have  by  no 
means  that  impressionability  which  we  find  in  older  children.  A 
certain  higher  development  of  the  mental  faculties  is  a  necessary 
condition  for  impressionability.  Therefore  we  may  agree  that 
the  earlier  a  patient  places  some  significant  event  in  his  child- 
hood, the  more  likely  it  will  be  a  phantastic  and  regressive  one. 
Important  impressions  are  only  to  be  expected  from  later  youth. 
At  any  rate,  we  have  generally  to  attribute  to  the  events  of 
earliest  childhood,  that  is,  from  the  fifth  year  backwards,  but  a 
regressive  importance.  Sometimes  the  regression  does  play  an 
overwhelming  part  in  later  years,  but  even  then  one  must  not 
ascribe  too  little  importance  to  accidental  experiences.  It  is  well 
known  that,  in  the  later  course  of  a  neurosis,  the  accidental  events 
and  the  regression  together  form  a  vicious  circle.  The  with- 
drawal from  the  experiences  of  life  leads  to  regression,  and  the 
regression  aggravates  the  resistances  towards  life. 

In  the  conception  of  regression  psychoanalysis  has  made  one 
of  the  most  important  discoveries  which  have  been  made  in  this 
sphere.  Not  only  has  the  earlier  exposition  of  the  genesis  of 
neurosis  been  already  subverted,  or  at  least  widely  modified,  but, 
at  the  same  time,  the  actual  conflict  has  received  its  proper 
valuation. 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  93 

THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  THE  ACTUAL  CONFLICT 

In  the  case  I  have  described,  we  saw  that  we  could  understand 
the  symptomatological  dramatization  as  soon  as  it  could  be  con- 
ceived as  an  expression  of  the  actual  conflict.  Here  the  psycho- 
analytic theory  agrees  with  the  results  of  the  association-experi- 
ments, of  which  I  spoke  in  my  lectures10  at  Clark  University. 
The  association-experiment,  with  a  neurotic  person,  gives  us  a 
series  of  references  to  certain  conflicts  of  the  actual  life,  which 
we  call  complexes.  These  complexes  contain  those  problems  and 
difficulties  which  have  brought  the  patient  into  opposition  with 
himself.  Generally  we  find  a  love-conflict  of  an  obvious  charac- 
ter. From  the  standpoint  of  the  association-experiment,  neurosis 
seems  to  be  something  quite  different  from  what  it  appeared 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  earlier  psychoanalytic  theory.  Con- 
sidered from  the  standpoint  of  the  latter  theory,  neurosis  seemed 
to  be  a  growth  which  had  its  roots  in  earliest  childhood,  and  over- 
grew the  normal  structure.  Considered  from  the  standpoint  of 
the  association-experiment,  neurosis  seems  to  be  a  reaction  from 
an  actual  conflict,  which  is  naturally  found  also  among  normal 
people,  but  among  them  the  conflict  is  solved  without  too  great 
difficulty.  The  neurotic  remains  in  the  grip  of  his  conflict,  and 
his  neurosis  seems,  more  or  less,  to  be  the  consequence  of  this 
stagnation.  So  we  may  say  that  the  result  of  the  association- 
experiments  tell  in  favor  of  the  theory  of  regression. 

With  the  former  historical  conception  of  neurosis,  we  thought 
we  understood  clearly  why  a  neurotic  person,  with  his  powerful 
parent-complex,  had  such  great  difficulty  in  adapting  himself  to 
life.  Now  that  we  know  that  normal  persons  have  the  same 
complex,  and  in  principle  have  to  pass  through  just  the  same 
psychological  development  as  a  neurotic,  we  can  no  longer  explain 
neurosis  as  a  certain  development  of  phantasy-systems.  The 
really  illuminating  way  to  put  the  problem  is  a  prospective  one. 
We  do  not  ask  any  longer  if  the  patient  has  a  father-  or  a  mother- 
complex,  or  unconscious  incest-phantasies  which  worry  him. 
To-day,  we  know  that  every  one  has  such  things.  The  belief 
that  only  neurotics  had  these  complexes  was  an  error.  We  ask 
now :  What  is  the  task  which  the  patient  does  not  wish  to  fulfil  ? 

10  Am.  Journ.  Psych.,  April,  1910. 


94  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

From  which  necessary  difficulties  of  life  does  the  patient  try  to 
withdraw  himself? 

When  people  try  always  to  adapt  themselves  to  the  condi- 
tions of  life,  the  libido  is  employed  rightly  and  adequately.  When 
this  is  not  the  case,  the  libido  is  stored  up  and  produces  regressive 
symptoms.  The  inadequate  adaptation,  that  is  to  say,  the  ab- 
normal indecision  of  neurotics  in  face  of  difficulties,  is  easily 
accounted  for  by  their  strong  subjection  to  their  phantasies,  in 
consequence  of  which  reality  seems  to  them,  wholly  or  partly, 
more  unreal,  valueless  and  uninteresting  than  to  normal  people. 
These  heightened  phantasies  are  the  results  of  innumerable 
regressions.  The  ultimate  and  deepest  root  is  the  innate  sensi- 
tiveness, which  causes  difficulties  even  to  the  infant  at  the 
mother's  breast,  in  the  form  of  unnecessary  irritation  and  resist- 
ances. Call  it  sensitiveness  or  whatever  you  like,  this  unknown 
element  of  predisposition  is  in  every  case  of  neurosis. 

THE  ETIOLOGICAL  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  PHANTASY  CRITICIZED 

The  apparent  etiological  development  of  neurosis,  discovered 
by  psychoanalysis,  is  in  reality  only  the  work  of  causally  con- 
nected phantasies,  which  the  patient  has  created  from  that  libido 
which  at  times  he  did  not  employ  in  the  biological  adaptation. 
Thus,  these  apparently  etiological  phantasies  seem  to  be  forms 
of  compensation,  disguises,  for  an  unfulfilled  adaptation  to  reality. 
The  vicious  circle  previously  mentioned  between  the  withdrawing 
in  the  face  of  difficulties  and  the  regression  into  the  world  of 
phantasies,  is  naturally  well-suited  to  give  the  illusion  of  an 
apparent  striking  causal  relationship,  so  that  both  the  patient  and 
the  physician  believe  in  it.  In  such  a  development  accidental 
experiences  are  only  "  extenuating  circumstances."  I  feel  I 
must  make  allowance  for  those  critics  who,  on  reading  the  his- 
tory of 'psychoanalytic  patients,  get  the  impression  of  phantastic 
elaboration.  Only  they  make  the  mistake  of  attributing  the 
phantastic  artefacts  and  far-fetched  arbitrary  symbolism  to  the 
suggestion  and  to  the  awful  phantasy  of  the  physician,  instead  of 
to  the  unequalled  fertility  of  phantasy  on  the  part  of  the  patient. 
Of  a  truth,  there  is  a  good  deal  of  artificial  elaboration  in  the 
phantasies  of  a  psychoanalytic  case.  There  are  generally  sig- 


ETIOLOGY  OF  THE  NEUROSES  95 

nificant  signs  of  the  patient's  active  imagination.  The  critics  are 
not  so  wrong  when  they  say  that  their  neurotic  patients  have  no 
such  phantasies.  I  have  no  doubt  that  patients  are  unconscious 
of  the  greater  part  of  their  own  phantasies.  A  phantasy  only  ' 
"really"  exists  in  the  unconscious,  when  it  has  some  notable  I 
effect  upon  the  conscious,  e.  g.,  in  the  form  of  a  dream ;  otherwise,  ' 
we  may  say  with  a  clear  conscience  that  it  is  not  real.  Every  ' 
one  who  overlooks  the  frequently  nearly  imperceptible  effects  of 
unconscious  phantasies  upon  the  conscious,  or  renounces  the 
fundamental,  and  technically  incontestable  analysis  of  dreams, 
can  easily  overlook  the  phantasies  of  his  patients  altogether.  We 
are,  therefore,  inclined  to  smile  when  we  hear  this  repeated  objec- 
tion. But  we  must  admit  that  there  is  some  truth  in  it.  The 
regressive  tendency  of  the  patient  is  strengthened  by  the  atten- 
tion bestowed  on  it,  and  directed  to  the  unconscious,  that  is  to 
say,  to  the  phantasies  he  discovers  and  forms  during  analysis. 
We  might  even  perhaps  go  so  far  as  to  say  that,  during  the  time 
of  analysis,  this  phantasy-production  is  greatly  increased,  as  the 
patient  is  strengthened  in  his  regressive  tendency,  by  the  interest 
taken  by  the  physician  and  originates  even  more  phantasies  than 
he  did  before.  Hence,  our  critics  have  repeatedly  stated  that  a 
conscientious  therapy  of  the  neurosis  should  go  in  exactly  the 
opposite  direction  to  that  taken  by  psychoanalysis ;  in  other  words, 
it  has  been  the  chief  endeavor  of  therapy,  hitherto,  to  extricate 
the  patient  from  his  unhealthy  phantasies  and  bring  him  back 
again  to  real  life. 


CHAPTER  IX 
THE  THERAPEUTICAL  PRINCIPLES  OF  PSYCHOANALYSIS 

While  the  psychoanalyst,  of  course,  knows  of  this  therapeutic 
tendency  to  extricate  the  patient  from  his  unhealthy  phantasies,  he 
also  knows  just  how  far  this  mere  extricating  of  neurotic  patients 
from  their  phantasies  goes.  As  physicians,  we  should  never  think 
of  preferring  a  difficult  and  complicated  method,  assailed  by  all 
authorities,  to  a  simple,  clear  and  easy  one  without  good  reason. 
I  am  perfectly  well-acquainted  with  hypnotic  suggestion,  and 
with  Dubois'  method  of  persuasion,  but  I  do  not  use  these 
methods,  on  account  of  their  relative  inadequacy.  For  the  same 
reason,  I  do  not  use  the  direct  "  re-education  de  la  volonte "  as 
the  psychoanalytic  method  gives  me  better  results. 

In  applying  psychoanalysis  we  must  grant  the  regressive 
phantasies  of  the  patient,  for  psychoanalysis  has  a  much  broader 
outlook,  as  regards  the  valuation  of  symptoms,  than  have  the 
above  psychotherapeutic  methods.  These  all  emanate  from  the 
assertion  that  a  neurosis  is  an  absolute  morbid  formation. 

The  reigning  school  of  neurology  has  never  thought  of  con- 
sidering neurosis  as  a  healing  process  also,  and  of  attributing  to 
the  neurotic  formations  a  quite  special  teleological  meaning. 
Neurosis,  like  every  other  disease,  is  a  compromise  between  the 
morbid  tendencies,  and  the  normal  function.  Modern  medicine 
no  longer  considers  fever  as  the  illness  itself,  but  a  purposeful 
reaction  of  the  organism.  Psychoanalysis,  likewise,  no  longer 
conceives  a  neurosis  as  eo  ipso  morbid,  but  as  also  having  a 
-meaning  and  a  purpose.  From  this  there  follows  the  more 
reserved  and  expectant  attitude  of  psychoanalysis  towards 
neurosis.  Psychoanalysis  does  not  judge  the  value  of  the  symp- 
toms, but  first  tries  to  understand  what  tendencies  lie  beneath 
these  symptoms.  If  we  were  able  to  abolish  a  neurosis  in  the 
same  way,  for  instance,  as  a  cancer  is  destroyed,  then  at  the  same 
time  there  would  be  destroyed  a  great  amount  of  available  energy 
also.  We  save  this  energy,  that  is,  we  make  it  serve  the  purposes 

96 


THERAPEUTICAL   PRINCIPLES   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS  97 

of  the  instinct  "for  health,  as  soon  as  we  can  trace  the  meaning 
of  these  symptoms;  by  taking  part  in  the  regressive  movement  of 
the  patient.  Those  unfamiliar  with  the  essentials  of  psycho- 
analysis will  have  some  difficulty  in  understanding  how  a  thera- 
peutic effect  can  come  to  pass  when  the  physician  takes  part  in 
the  pernicious  phantasies  of  the  patient.  Not  only  critics,  but 
the  patients  also,  doubt  the  therapeutic  value  of  such  a  method, 
which  concentrates  attention  upon  phantasies  which  the  patient 
rejects  as  worthless  and  reprehensible.  The  patients  will  often 
tell  you  that  their  former  physicians  forbade  them  to  occupy 
themselves  with  their  phantasies,  and  told  them  that  they  must 
only  consider  that  it  is  well  with  them,. when  they  are  free,  if 
but  momentarily,  from  their  awful  torments.  So,  it  seems  strange 
enough  that  it  should  be  of  any  use  to  them,  when  the  treatment 
brings  them  back  to  the  very  thing  from  which  they  have  tried 
constantly  to  escape.  The  following  answer  may  be  made:  all 
depends  upon  the  position  which  the  patient  takes  up  towards 
his  own  phantasies.  These  phantasies  have  been  hitherto,  for  the 
patient,  an  absolutely  passive  and  involuntary  manifestation.  As 
we  say,  he  was  lost  in  his  dreams.  The  patient's  so-called  brood- 
ing is  an  involuntary  kind  of  dreaming  too.  What  psychoanalysis 
demands  from  a  patient  is  only  apparently  the  same.  Only  a 
man  who  has  a  very  superficial  knowledge  of  psychoanalysis  can 
confuse  this  passive  dreaming  with  the  position  taken  up  in 
analysis.  What  psychoanalysis  asks  from  the  patient  is  just  the 
contrary  of  what  the  patient  has  always  done.  The  patient  can 
be  compared  to  a  person  who,  unintentionally,  has  fallen  into  the 
water  and  sunk,  whilst  psychoanalysis  wants  him  to  dive  in,  as 
it  was  no  mere  chance  which  led  him  to  fall  in  at  just  that  spot. 
There  lies  a  sunken  treasure,  and  only  a  diver  can  raise  it. 

The  patient,  judging  his  phantasies  from  the  standpoint  of 
his  reason,  regards  them  as  valueless  and  senseless;  but,  in 
reality,  the  phantasies  have  their  great  influence  on  the  patient 
because  they  are  of  great  importance.  They  are  old,  sunken 
treasures,  which  can  only  be  recovered  by  a  diver,  that  is,  the 
patients,  contrary  to  their  wont,  must  now  pay  an  active  atten- 
tion to  their  inner  life.  Where  they  formerly  dreamed,  they 
must  now  think,  consciously  and  intentionally.  This  new  way  of 
thinking  about  himself  has  about  as  much  resemblance  to  the 


98  THE  THEORY  OF  PSYCHOANALYSIS 

patient's  former  mental  condition  as  a  diver  has  to  a  drowning 
man.  The  earlier  joy  in  indulgence  has  now  become  a  purpose 
and  an  aim — that  is,  has  become  work.  The  patient,  assisted  by 
the  physician,  occupies  himself  with  his  phantasies,  not  to  lose 
himself  therein,  but  to  uproot  them,  piece  by  piece,  and  to  bring 
them  into  daylight.  He  thus  reaches  an  objective  standpoint 
towards  his  inner  life,  and  everything  he  formerly  loathed  and 
feared  is  now  considered  consciously.  This  contains  the  basis  of 
the  whole  psychoanalytic  therapy.  In  consequence  of  his  illness, 
the  patient  stood,  partially  or  totally,  outside  of  real  life.  Con- 
sequently he  neglected  many  of  his  life's  duties,  either  in  regard 
to  social  work  or  to  the  ordinary  daily  tasks.  If  he  wishes  to  be 
well,  he  must  return  to  the  fulfilment  of  his  particular  obligations. 
Let  me  say,  by  way  of  caution,  that  we  are  not  to  understand  by 
such  "  duties,"  some  general  ethical  postulates,  but  duties  towards 
himself.  Nor  does  this  mean  that  they  are  eo  ipso  egoistic  inter- 
ests, since  we  are  social  beings  as  well,  a  matter  too  easily  for- 
gotten by  individualists.  An  ordinary  person  will  feel  very  much 
more  comfortable  sharing  a  common  virtue  than  possessing  an 
individual  vice,  even  if  the  latter  is  a  very  seductive  one.  They 
must  be  already  neurotic,  or  otherwise  extraordinary  people  who 
can  be  deluded  by  such  particular  interests.  /The  neurotic  fled 
from  his  duties  and  his  libido  withdrew,  at  least  partly,  from  the 
tasks  imposed  by  real  life.  In  consequence,  the  libido  became 
introverted  and  directed  towards  an  inner  life.  The  libido  fol- 
lowed the  path  of  regression:  to  a  large  extent  phantasies  re- 
placed reality,  because  the  patient  refused  to  overcome  certain 
real  difficulties.  Unconsciously  the  neurotic  patient  prefers — and 
very  often  consciously  too — his  dreams  and  phantasies  to  reality. 
To  bring  him  back  to  real  life  and  to  the  fulfilment  of  its  neces- 
sary duties,  the  analysis  proceeds  along  the  same  false  path  of 
regression  which  has  been  taken  by  his  libido;  so  that  the  begin- 
ning of  psychoanalysis  looks  as  if  it  were  supporting  the  morbid 
tendencies  of  the  patient.  But  psychoanalysis  follows  these 
phantasies,  these  wrong  paths,  in  order  to  restore  the  libido,  which 
is  the  valuable  part  of  the  phantasies,  to  the  conscious  self  and 
to  the  duties  of  the  moment.  This  can  only  be  done  by  bringing 
the  phantasies  into  the  light  of  day,  and  along  with  them  the 
libido  bound  up  with  them.  We  might  leave  these  unconscious 


THERAPEUTICAL   PRINCIPLES   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS  99 

phantasies  to  their  shadowy  existence,  if  no  libido  were  attached 
to  them.  It  is  unavoidable  that  the  patient,  feeling  himself  at 
the  beginning  of  analysis  confirmed  in  his  regressive  tendencies, 
leads  his  analytical  interest,  amid  increasing  resistances,  down 
to  the  depths  of  the  shadowy  world.  We  can  easily  understand 
that  any  physician  who  is  a  normal  person  experiences  the  great- 
est resistance  towards  the  thoroughly  morbid,  regressive  tend- 
ency of  the  patient,  since  he  feels  quite  certain  that  this  tendency 
is  pathological.  And  this  all  the  more  because,  as  physician,  he 
believes  he  is  right  in  refusing  to  give  heed  to  his  patient's  phan- 
tasies. It  is  quite  conceivable  that  the  physician  feels  a  repulsion 
towards  this  tendency;  it  is  undoubtedly  repugnant  to  see  how 
a  person  is  completely  given  up  to  such  phantasies,  finding  only 
himself  of  any  importance  and  never  ceasing  to  admire  or  despise 
himself.  The  esthetic  sense  of  normal  people  has,  as  a  rule,  little 
pleasure  in  neurotic  phantasies,  even  if  it  does  not  find  them  abso- 
lutely repulsive.  The  psychoanalyst  must  put  aside  such  esthetic 
judgment,  just  as  every  physician  must,  who  really  tries  to  help 
his  patients.  He  may  not  fear  any  dirty  work.  Of  course  there 
are  a  great  many  patients  physically  ill,  who,  without  undergoing 
an  exact  examination  or  local  treatment,  do  recover  by  the  use 
of  general  physical,  dietetic,  or  suggestive  means.  Severe  cases 
can,  however,  only  be  helped  by  a  more  exact  examination  and 
therapy,  based  on  a  profound  knowledge  of  the  illness.  Our 
psychotherapeutic  methods  hitherto  have  been  like  these  general 
measures.  In  slight  cases  they  did  no  harm;  on  the  contrary, 
they  were  often  of  great  service.  But  for  a  great  many  patients 
these  measures  have  proved  inadequate.  If  they  really  can  be 
helped,  it  will  be  by  psychoanalysis,  which  is  not  to  say  that 
psychoanalysis  is  a  universal  panacea.  Such  a  sneer  proceeds 
only  from  ill-natured  criticism.  We  know  very  well  that  psycho- 
analysis fails  in  many  cases.  As  everybody  knows,  we  shall  never 
be  able  to  cure  all  illnesses. 

This  "  diving  "  work  of  analysis  brings  dirty  matter  piecemeal 
out  of  the  slime,  which  must  then  be  cleansed  before  we  can  tell 
its  value.  The  dirty  phantasies  are  valueless  and  are  thrown 
aside,  but  the  libido  actuating  them  is  of  value  and  this,  after 
cleansing,  becomes  serviceable  again.  To  the  psychoanalyst,  as 
to  every  specialist,  it  will  sometimes  seem  that  the  phantasies  have 


100  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

also  a  value  of  their  own,  and  not  only  by  reason  of  the  libido 
linked  with  them.  But  their  value  is  not,  in  the  first  instance,  for 
the  patient.  For  the  physician,  these  phantasies  have  a  scien- 
tific value,  just  as  it  is  of  special  interest  to  the  surgeon  to  know 
whether  the  pus  contained  staphylococci  or  streptococci.  To  the 
patient  it  is  all  the  same,  and  for  him,  it  is  better  that  the  doctor 
conceal  his  scientific  interest,  in  order  not  to  tempt  him  to  have 
greater  pleasure  than  necessary  in  his  phantasies.  The  etiolog- 
ical  importance  which  is  attached  to  these  phantasies,  incorrectly, 
to  my  mind,  explains  why  so  much  room  is  given  up  in  psycho- 
analytic literature  to  the  extensive  discussion  of  the  various 
sexual  phantasies.  Once  it  is  known  that  absolutely  nothing  is 
impossible  in  the  sphere  of  sexual  phantasy,  the  former  estimate 
of  these  phantasies  will  disappear,  and  therewith  the  endeavor  to 
discover  in  them  an  etiological  import.  Nor  will  the  most  ex- 
tended discussion  of  these  cases  ever  be  able  to  exhaust  this 
sphere. 

Every  case  is  theoretically  inexhaustible.  But  in  general  the 
production  of  phantasies  ceases  after  a  time.  Naturally,  we  must 
not  conclude  from  this  that  the  possibility  of  creating  phantasies 
is  exhausted,  but  the  cessation  in  their  production  only  means 
that  there  is  then  no  more  libido  on  the  path  of  regression.  The 
end  of  the  regressive  movement  is  reached  as  soon  as  the  libido 
takes  hold  of  the  present  real  duties  of  life,  and  is  used  to  solve 
those  problems.  But  there  are  cases,  and  these  not  a  few,  where 
the  patient  continues  longer  than  usual  to  produce  endless  phan- 
tastic  manifestations,  either  from  his  own  pleasure  in  them  or 
from  certain  false  expectations  on  the  part  of  the  doctor.  Such 
a  mistake  is  especially  easy  for  beginners,  since,  blinded  by  the 
present  psychoanalytical  discussion,  they  keep  their  interest  fixed 
on  these  phantasies,  because  they  seem  to  possess  etiological  sig- 
nificance. They  are  therefore  constantly  at  pains  to  fish  up 
phantasies  of  early  childhood,  vainly  hoping  to  find  thus  the  solu- 
tion of  the  neurotic  difficulties.  They  do  not  see  that  the  solution 
lies  in  action,  and  in  the  fulfilment  of  certain  necessary  duties  of 
life.  It  will  be  objected  that  the  neurosis  is  entirely  due  to  the 
incapacity  of  the  patient  to  carry  out  these  very  demands  of  life, 
and  that  therapy  by  the  analysis  of  the  unconscious  ought  to 
enable  him  to  do  so,  or  at  least,  give  him  means  to  do  so.  The 


THERAPEUTICAL   PRINCIPLES   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS  IOI 

objection  put  in  this  way  is  perfectly  valid,  but  we  have  to  add 
that  it  is  only  so  when  the  patient  is  really  conscious  of  the  duties 
he  has  to  fulfil,  not  only  academically,  in  their  general  theoretical 
outlines  but  in  their  most  minute  details.  It  is  characteristic  for 
neurotic  people  to  be  wanting  in  this  knowledge,  although,  because 
of  their  intelligence,  they  are  well  aware  of  the  general  duties  of 
life,  and  struggle,  perhaps  only  too  hard,  to  fulfil  the  prescriptions 
of  current  morality.  But  the  much  more  important  duties  which 
he  ought  to  fulfil  towards  himself  are  to  a  great  extent  unknown 
to  the  neurotic ;  sometimes  even  they  are  not  known  at  all.  It  is 
not  enough,  therefore,  to  follow  the  patient  blindfold  on  the  path 
of  regression,  and  to  push  him  by  an  inopportune  etiological  in- 
terest back  into  his  infantile  phantasies.  I  have  often  heard 
from  patients,  with  whom  the  psychoanalytic  treatment  has  come 
to  a  standstill :  "  The  doctor  believes  I  must  have  somewhere  some 
infantile  trauma,  or  an  infantile  phantasy  which  I  am  still  repress- 
ing." Apart  from  the  cases  where  this  supposition  was  really 
true,  I  have  seen  cases  in  which  the  stoppage  was  caused  by  the 
fact  that  the  libido,  hauled  up  by  the  analysis,  sank  back  into  the 
depths  again  for  want  of  employment.  This  was  due  to  the 
physician's  attention  being  directed  entirely  to  the  infantile  phan- 
tasies, and  his  failing  therefore  to  see  what  duties  of  the  moment 
the  patient  had  to  fulfil.  The  consequence  was  that  the  libido 
brought  forth  by  analysis  always  sank  back  again,  as  no  oppor- 
tunity for  further  activity  was  found. 

There  are  many  patients  who,  on  their  own  account,  discover 
their  life-tasks  and  abandon  the  production  of  regressive  phan- 
tasies pretty  soon,  because  they  prefer  to  live  in  reality,  rather  \ 
than  in  their  phantasies.  It  is  a  pity  that  this  cannot  be  said  of 
all  patients.  A  good  many  of  them  forsake  for  a  long  time,  or 
even  forever,  the  fulfilment  of  their  life-tasks,  and  prefer  their 
idle  neurotic  dreaming.  I  must  again  emphasize  that  we  do  not 
understand  by  "dreaming"  always  a  conscious  phenomenon. 

In  accordance  with  these  facts  and  these  views,  the  character 
of  psychoanalysis  has  changed  during  the  course  of  time.  If  the 
first  stage  of  psychoanalysis  was  perhaps  a  kind  of  surgery,  which 
would  remove  from  the  mind  of  the  patient  the  foreign  body, 
the  "  blocked  "  affect,  the  later  form  has  been  a  kind  of  historical 
method,  which  tries  to  investigate  carefully  the  genesis  of  the 


102  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

neurosis,  down  to  its  smallest  details,  and  to  reduce  it  to  its 
earliest  origins. 

THE  CONCEPTION  OF  TRANSFERENCE 

This  last  method  has  unmistakably  been  due  to  strong  scien- 
tific interest,  the  traces  of  which  are  clearly  seen  in  the  delinea- 
tions of  cases  so  far.  Thanks  to  this,  Freud  was  also  able  to  dis- 
cover wherein  lay  the  therapeutical  effect  of  psychoanalysis. 
Whilst  formerly  this  was  sought  in  the  discharge  of  the  trau- 
matic affect,  it  was  now  seen  that  the  phantasies  produced 
were  especially  associated  with  the  personality  of  the  physician. 
Freud  calls  this  process  transference  ("Uebertragung"),  owing 
to  the  fact  that  the  images  of  the  parents  ("imagines")  are 
henceforth  transferred  to  the  physician,  along  with  the  infantile 
attitude  of  mind  adopted  towards  the  parents.  The  transference 
does  not  arise  solely  in  the  intellectual  sphere,  but  the  libido 
bound  up  with  the  phantasy  is  transferred,  together  with  the 
phantasy  itself,  to  the  personality  of  the  physician,  so  that  the 
physician  replaces  the  parents  to  a  certain  extent.  All  the  ap- 
parently sexual  phantasies  which  have  been  connected  with  the 
parents  are  now  connected  with  the  physician,  and  the  less  this  is 
realized  by  the  patient,  the  more  he  will  be  unconsciously  bound 
to  his  physician.  This  recognition  is  in  many  ways  of  prime 
importance. 

This  process  has  an  important  biological  value  for  the  patient. 
The  less  libido  he  gives  to  reality,  the  more  exaggerated  will  be 
his  phantasies,  and  the  more  he  will  be  cut  off  from  the  world. 
Typical  of  neurotic  people  is  their  attitude  of  disharmony  towards 
reality,  that  is,  their  diminished  capacity  for  adaptation.  Through 
the  transference  to  the  physician,  a  bridge  is  built,  across  which 
the  patient  can  get  away  from  his  family,  into  reality.  In  other 
words,  he  can  emerge  from  his  infantile  environment  into  the 
world  of  grown-up  people,  for  here  the  physician  stands  for  a 
part  of  the  extra-familial  world.  But  on  the  other  hand,  this 
transference  is  a  powerful  hindrance  to  the  progress  of  treatment, 
for  the  patient  assimilates  the  personality  of  the  physician  as  if 
he  did  stand  for  father  or  mother,  and  not  for  a  part  of  the 
extra-familial  world.  If  the  patient  could  acquire  the  image  of 
the  physician  as  a  part  of  the  non-infantile  world,  he  would  gain 


THERAPEUTICAL   PRINCIPLES   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS  103 

a  considerable  advantage.  But  transference  has  the  opposite 
effect;  hence  the  whole  advantage  of  the  new  acquisition  is  neu- 
tralized. The  more  the  patient  succeeds  in  regarding  his  doctor 
as  he  does  any  other  individual,  the  more  he  is  able  to  consider 
himself  objectively,  the  greater  becomes  the  advantage  of  trans- 
ference. The  less  he  is  able  to  consider  his  doctor  in  this  way, 
the  more  the  physician  is  assimilated  with  the  father,  the  less  is 
the  advantage  of  the  transference  and  the  greater  will  be  its  harm. 
The  familial  environment  of  the  patient  has  only  become  in- 
creased by  an  additional  personality  assimilated  to  his  parents. 
The  patient  himself  is,  as  before,  still  in  his  childish  surround- 
ings, and  therefore  maintains  his  infantile  attitude  of  mind.  In 
this  manner,  all  the  advantages  of  transference  can  be  lost. 

There  are  patients  who  follow  the  analysis  with  the  greatest 
interest  without  making  the  slightest  improvement,  remaining 
extraordinarily  productive  in  phantasies,  although  the  whole  de- 
velopment of  their  neurosis,  even  to  the  smallest  details,  has  been 
brought  to  light.  A  physician  under  the  influence  of  the  his- 
torical view  might  be  thus  easily  thrown  into  confusion,  and 
would  have  to  ask  himself:  What  is  there  in  this  case  still  to  be 
analyzed?  Those  are  just  the  cases  of  which  I  spoke  before, 
where  it  is  no  longer  a  matter  of  the  analysis  of  the  historical 
material,  but  we  have  now  to  face  a  practical  problem,  the  over- 
coming of  the  inadequate  infantile  attitude  of  mind.  Of  course, 
the  historical  analysis  would  show  repeatedly  that  the  patient  had 
a  childish  attitude  towards  his  physician,  but  it  would  not  bring 
us  any  solution  of  the  question  how  that  attitude  could  be  changed. 
To  a  certain  extent,  this  serious  disadvantage  of  transference  is 
found  in  every  case.  Gradually  it  has  been  proved  that  this  part 
of  psychoanalysis  is,  considered  from  a  scientific  standpoint, 
extraordinarily  interesting  and  of  great  value,  but  in  its  practical 
aspect,  of  less  importance  than  that  which  has  now  to  follow, 
namely,  the  analysis  of  the  transference. 

CONFESSION  AND  PSYCHOANALYSIS 

Before  we  enter  into  a  more  detailed  consideration  of  this 
practical  part  of  psychoanalysis,  I  should  like  to  mention  a 
parallelism  between  the  first  part  of  psychoanalysis  and  a  his- 
torical institution  of  our  civilization.  It  is  not  difficult  to  guess 


104  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

this  parallelism.  We  find  it  in  the  religious  institution  called 
confession.  By  nothing  are  people  more  cut  off  from  fellowship 
with  others  than  by  a  secret  borne  about  within  them.  It  is  not 
that  a  secret  actually  cuts  off  a  oerson  from  communicating  with 
his  fellows,  yet  somehow  personal  secrets  which  are  zealously 
guarded  do  have  this  effect.  "  Sinful "  deeds  and  thoughts,  for 
instance,  are  the  secrets  which  separate  one  person  from  another. 
Great  relief  is  therefore  gained  by  confessing  them.  This  relief 
is  due  to  the  re-admission  of  the  individual  to  the  community. 
His  loneliness,  which  was  so  difficult  to  bear,  ceases.  Herein  lies 
the  essential  value  of  the  confession.  But  this  confession  means 
at  the  same  time,  through  the  phenomenon  of  transference  and  its 
unconscious  phantasies,  that  the  individual  becomes  tied  to  his 
confessor.  This  was  probably  instinctively  intended  by  the 
Church.  The  fact  that  perhaps  the  greater  part  of  humanity 
wants  to  be  guided,  justifies  the  moral  value  attributed  to  this 
institution  by  the  Church.  The  priest  is  furnished  with  all  the 
attributes  of  paternal  authority,  and  upon  him  rests  the  obligation 
to  guide  his  congregation,  just  as  a  father  guides  his  children. 
Thus  the  priest  replaces  the  parents  and  to  a  certain  extent  frees 
his  people  from  their  infantile  bonds.  In  so  far  as  the  priest  is  a 
highly  moral  personality,  with  a  nobility  of  soul,  and  an  adequate 
culture,  this  institution  may  be  commended  as  a  splendid  instance 
of  social  control  and  education,  which  served  humanity  during 
the  space  of  two  thousand  years.  So  long  as  the  Christian 
Church  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  capable  of  being  the  guardian  of 
culture  and  science,  in  which  role  her  success  was,  in  part,  due  to 
her  wide  toleration  of  the  secular  element,  confession  was  an 
admirable  method  for  the  education  of  the  people.  But  confes- 
sion lost  its  greatest  value,  at  least  for  the  more  educated,  as 
soon  as  the  Church  was  unable  to  maintain  her  leadership  over 
the  more  emancipated  portion  of  the  community  and  became  in- 
capable, through  her  rigidity,  of  following  the  intellectual  life  of 
the  nations. 

The  more  highly  educated  men  of  to-day  do  not  want  to  be 
guided  by  a  belief  or  a  rigid  dogma;  they  want  to  understand. 
Therefore,  they  put  aside  everything  that  they  do  not  understand, 
and  the  religious  symbol  is  very  little  accessible  for  general  under- 
standing. The  sacrificium  intellectus  is  an  act  of  violence,  to 


THERAPEUTICAL   PRINCIPLES   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS  105 

which  the  moral  conscience  of  the  highly  developed  man  is 
opposed.  But  in  a  large  number  of  cases,  transference  to,  and 
dependence  upon  the  analyst  could  be  considered  as  a  sufficient 
end,  with  a  definite  therapeutic  effect,  if  the  analyst  were  in  every 
respect  a  great  personality,  capable  and  competent  to  guide  the 
patients  given  into  his  charge  and  to  be  a  father  of  his  people. 
But  a  modern,  mentally-developed  person  desires  to  guide  him- 
self, and  to  stand  on  his  own  feet.  He  wants  to  take  the  helm  in 
his  own  hands;  the  steering  has  too  long  been  done  by  others. 
He  wants  to  understand;  in  other  words,  he  wants  to  be  a 
grown-up  person.  It  is  much  easier  to  be  guided,  but  this  no 
longer  suits  the  well-educated  of  the  present  time,  for  they  feel 
the  necessity  of  the  moral  independence  demanded  by  the  spirit 
of  our  time.  Modern  humanity  demands  moral  autonomy.  * 
Psychoanalysis  has  to  allow  this  claim,  and  refuses  to  guide  and 
to  advise.  The  psychoanalytic  physician  knows  his  own  short- 
comings too  well,  and  therefore  cannot  believe  that  he  can  be 
father  and  leader.  His  highest  ambition  must  only  consist  in  < 
educating  his  patients  to  become  independent  personalities,  and  in 
freeing  them  from  their  unconscious  dependency  within  infantile 
limitations.  Psychoanalysis  has  therefore  to  analyze  the  trans- 
ference, a  task  left  untouched  by  the  priest.  In  so  doing,  the 
unconscious  dependence  upon  the  physician  is  cut  off,  and  the 
patient  is  put  upon  his  own  feet ;  this  at  least  is  the  end  at  which 
the  physician  aims. 

THE  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  TRANSFERENCE 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  transference  brings  about  diffi- 
culties, because  the  personality  of  the  physician  is  assimilated 
with  the  image  of  the  patient's  parents.  The  first  part  of  the 
analysis,  the  investigation  of  the  patient's  complexes,  is  rather 
easy,  chiefly  because  a  man  is  relieved  by  ridding  himself  of  his 
secrets,  difficulties  and  pains.  In  the  second  place,  he  experiences 
a  peculiar  satisfaction  from  at  last  finding  some  one  who  shows 
interest  in  all  those  things  to  which  nobody  hitherto  would  listen. 
It  is  very  agreeable  to  find  a  person,  who  tries  to  understand  him, 
and  does  not  shrink  back.  In  the  third  place,  the  expressed  in- 
tention of  the  physician,  to  understand  him  and  to  follow  him 
through  all  his  erring  ways,  pathetically  affects  the  patient.  The 


106  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

feeling  of  being  understood  is  especially  sweet  to  the  solitary 
souls  who  are  forever  longing  for  "  understanding."  In  this  they 
are  insatiable.  The  beginning  of  the  analysis  is  for  these  reasons 
fairly  easy  and  simple.  The  improvement  so  easily  gained,  and 
the  sometimes  striking  change  in  the  patient's  condition  of  health 
are  a  great  temptation  to  the  psychoanalytic  beginner  to  slip  into 
a  therapeutic  optimism  and  an  analytical  superficiality,  neither  of 
which  would  correspond  to  the  seriousness  and  the  difficulties  of 
the  situation.  The  trumpeting  of  therapeutic  successes  is  no- 
where more  contemptible  than  in  psychoanalysis,  for  no  one  is 
better  able  to  understand  than  a  psychoanalyst  how  the  so-called 
result  of  the  therapy  depends  on  the  cooperation  of  nature  and 
the  patient  himself.  The  psychoanalyst  may  rest  content  with 
possessing  an  advanced  scientific  insight.  The  prevailing  psycho- 
analytic literature  cannot  be  spared  reproach  that  some  of  its 
works  do  give  a  false  impression  as  to  its  real  nature.  There  are 
therapeutical  publications  from  which  the  uninitiated  receive  the 
impression  that  psychoanalysis  is  more  or  less  a  clever  trick,  with 
astonishing  effects.  The  first  part  of  analysis,  where  we  try  to 
understand,  and  which,  as  we  have  seen  before,  offers  much 
relief  to  the  patient's  feelings,  is  responsible  for  these  illusions. 
These  incidental  benefits  help  the  phenomenon  of  transference. 
The  patient  has  long  felt  the  need  of  help  to  free  him  from  his 
inward  isolation  and  his  lack  of  self-understanding.  So  he  gives 
way  to  his  transference,  after  first  struggling  against  it.  For  a 
neurotic  person,  the  transference  is  an  ideal  situation.  He  him- 
self makes  no  effort,  and  nevertheless  another  person  meets  him 
halfway,  with  an  apparent  affectionate  understanding;  does  not 
even  get  annoyed  or  leave  off  his  patient  endeavors,  although  he 
himself  is  sometimes  stubborn  and  makes  childish  resistances. 
By  this  means  the  strongest  resistances  are  melted  away,  for  the 
interest  of  the  physician  meets  the  need  of  a  better  adaptation  to 
-i  extra-familial  reality.  The  patient  obtains,  through  the  transfer- 
ence, not  only  his  parents,  who  used  to  bestow  great  attention 
upon  him,  but  in  addition  he  gets  a  relationship  outside  the  family, 
and  thus  fulfils  a  necessary  duty  of  life.  The  therapeutical  suc- 
cess so  often  to  be  seen  at  the  same  time  fortifies  the  patient's 
belief  that  this  new-gained  situation  is  an  excellent  one.  Here  we 
can  easily  understand  that  the  patient  is  not  in  the  least  inclined 


THERAPEUTICAL   PRINCIPLES   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS  107 

to  abandon  this  newly- found  advantage.  If  it  depended  upon 
him,  he  would  be  forever  associated  with  his  physician.  In  con- 
sequence, he  begins  to  produce  all  kinds  of  phantasies,  in  order  to 
find  possible  ways  of  maintaining  the  association  with  his  phy- 
sician. He  makes  the  greatest  resistances  towards  his  physician, 
when  the  latter  tries  to  dissolve  the  transference.  At  the  same 
time,  we  must  not  forget  that  for  our  patients  the  acquisition  of  a 
relationship  outside  the  family  is  one  of  the  most  important 
duties  of  life,  and  one,  moreover,  which  up  to  this  moment  they 
had  failed  or  but  very  imperfectly  succeeded  in  accomplishing. 
I  must  oppose  myself  energetically  to  the  view  that  we  always 
mean  by  this  relationship  outside  the  family,  a  sexual  relation  in 
its  popular  sense.  This  is  the  misunderstanding  fallen  into  by  so 
many  neurotic  people,  who  believe  that  a  right  attitude  toward 
reality  is  only  to  be  found  by  way  of  concrete  sexuality.  There 
are  even  physicians,  not  psychoanalysts,  who  are  of  the  same  con- 
viction. But  this  is  the  primitive  adaptation  which  we  find  among 
uncivilized  people  under  primitive  conditions.  If  we  lend  un- 
critical support  to  this  tendency  of  neurotic  people  to  adapt  them- 
selves in  an  infantile  way,  we  just  encourage  them  in  the  infantil- 
ism from  which  they  are  suffering.  The  neurotic  patient  has  to 
learn  that  higher  adaptation  which  is  demanded  by  life  from 
civilized  and  grown-up  people.  Whoever  has  a  tendency  to  sink 
lower,  will  proceed  to  do  so ;  for  this  end  he  does  not  need  psy- 
choanalysis. But  we  must  be  careful  not  to  fall  into  the  opposite 
extreme  and  believe  that  we  can  create  by  analysis  great  person- 
alities. Psychoanalysis  stands  above  traditional  morality.  It 
follows  no  arbitrary  moral  standard.  It  is  only  a  means  to  bring 
to  light  the  individual  trends,  and  to  develop  and  harmonize  them 
as  perfectly  as  possible. 

Analysis  must  be  a  biological  method,  that  is,  a  method  which 
tries  to  connect  the  highest  subjective  well-being  with  the  most 
valuable  biological  activity.  The  best  result  for  a  person  who 
passes  through  analysis,  is  that  he  becomes  at  the  end  what  he 
really  is,  in  harmony  with  himself,  neither  bad  nor  good,  but  an 
ordinary  human  being.  Psychoanalysis  cannot  be  considered 
a  method  of  education,  if  by  education  is  understood  the  possi- 
bility of  shaping  a  tree  to  a  highly  artificial  form.  But  who- 
ever has  the  higher  conception  of  education  will  most  prize  that 


108  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

educational  method  which  can  cultivate  a  tree  so  that  it  shall 
fulfil  to  perfection  its  own  natural  conditions  of  growth.  We 
yield  too  much  to  the  ridiculous  fear  that  we  are  at  bottom  quite 
impossible  beings,  and  that  if  everyone  were  to  appear  as  he 
really  is  a  dreadful  social  catastrophe  would  result.  The  in- 
dividualistic thinkers  of  our  day  insist  on  understanding  by 
"•people  as  they  really  are,"  only  the  discontented,  anarchistic 
and  egotistic  element  in  humanity;  they  quite  forget  that  this 
same  humanity  has  created  those  well-established  forms  of  our 
civilization  which  possess  greater  strength  and  solidity  than  all 
the  anarchistic  under-currents. 

When  we  try  to  dissolve  the  transference  we  have  to  fight 
against  powers  which  have  not  only  neurotic  value,  but  also 
universal  normal  significance.  When  we  try  to  bring  the  patient 
to  the  dissolution  of  his  transference,  we  are  asking  more  from 
him  than  is  generally  asked  of  the  average  man ;  we  ask  that  he 
should  subdue  himself  wholly.  Only  certain  religions  have  made 
such  a  claim  on  humanity,  and  it  is  this  demand  which  makes  the 
second  part  of  analysis  so  difficult. 

The  technique  that  we  have  to  employ  for  the  analysis  of  the 
transference  is  exactly  the  same  as  that  before  described. 
Naturally  the  problem  as  to  what  the  patient  must  do  with  the 
libido  which  is  now  withdrawn  from  the  physician  comes  to  the 
fore.  Here  again,  there  is  great  danger  for  the  beginner,  as  he 
will  be  inclined  to  suggest,  or  to  give  suggestive  advice.  This 
would  be  extremely  pleasant  for  the  patient  in  every  respect,  and 
therefore  fatal. 

THE  PROBLEM  OF  SELF-ANALYSIS 

I  think  here  is  the  place  to  say  something  about  the  indis- 
pensable conditions  of  the  psychology  of  the  psychoanalyst  him- 
self. Psychoanalysis  is  by  no  means  an  instrument  applied  to  the 
patient  only;  it  is  self-evident  that  it  must  be  applied  to  the 
psychoanalyst  first.  I  believe  that  it  is  not  only  a  moral,  but  a 
professional  duty  also,  for  the  physician  to  submit  himself  to  the 
psychoanalytic  process,  in  order  to  clean  his  mind  from  his  own 
unconscious  interferences.  Even  if  he  is  entitled  to  trust  to  his 
own  personal  honesty,  that  will  not  suffice  to  save  him  from  the 
misleading  influences  of  his  own  unconscious.  The  unconscious 


THERAPEUTICAL   PRINCIPLES   OF    PSYCHOANALYSIS  109 

is  unknown,  even  to  the  most  frank  and  honest  person.  Without 
analysis  the  physician  will  inevitably  be  blindfolded  in  all  those 
places  where  he  meets  his  own  complexes ;  this  is  a  situation  of 
dangerous  importance  in  the  analysis  of  transference.  Do  not 
forget  that  the  complexes  of  a  neurotic  are  only  the  complexes  of 
all  human  beings,  the  psychoanalyst  included.  Through  the  inter- 
ference of  your  own  hidden  wishes  you  will  do  the  greatest  harm 
to  your  patients.  The  psychoanalyst  must  never  forget  that  the 
final  aim  of  psychoanalysis  is  the  personal  freedom  and  moral 
independence  of  the  patient. 


THE  ANALYSIS  OF  DREAMS 

Here,  as  everywhere  in  analysis,  we  have  to  follow  the  patient 
along  the  line  of  his  own  impulses,  even  if  the  path  seems  to  be  a 
wrong  one.  Error  is  just  as  important  a  condition  of  mental 
progress  as  truth.  In  this  second  step  of  analysis,  with  all  its 
hidden  precipices  and  sand-banks,  we  owe  a  great  deal  to  dreams. 
At  the  beginning  of  analysis  dreams  chiefly  helped  in  discovering 
phantasies;  here  they  guide  us,  in  a  most  valuable  way,  to  the 
application  of  the  libido.  Freud's  work  laid  the  foundation  of  an 
immense  increase  in  our  knowledge  in  regard  to  the  interpreta- 
tion of  the  dream's  content,  through  its  historical  material  and 
its  tendency  to  express  wishes.  He  showed  us  how  dreams  open 
the  way  to  the  acquisition  of  unconscious  material.  In  accord- 
ance with  his  genius  for  the  purely  historical  method,  he  apprises 
us  chiefly  of  the  analytical  relations.  Although  this  method  is 
incontestably  of  the  greatest  importance,  we  ought  not  to  take  up 
this  standpoint  exclusively,  as  such  an  historical  conception  does 
not  sufficiently  take  account  of  the  teleological  meaning  of  dreams. 

Conscious  thinking  would  be  quite  insufficiently  characterized, 
if  we  considered  it  only  from  its  historical  determinants.  For  its 
complete  valuation,  we  have  unquestionably  to  consider  its  teleo- 
logical or  prospective  meaning  as  well.  If  we  pursued  the  history 
of  the  English  Parliament  back  to  its  first  origin,  we  should  cer- 
tainly arrive  at  a  perfect  understanding  of  its  development,  and 
the  determination  of  its  present  form.  But  we  should  know 
nothing  about  its  prospective  function,  that  is,  about  the  work 
which  it  has  to  accomplish  now,  and  in  the  future.  The  same 


HO  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

thing  is  to  be  said  about  dreams.  Their  prospective  function  has 
been  valued  only  by  superstitious  peoples  and  times,  but  probably 
there  is  much  truth  in  their  view.  Not  that  we  pretend  that 
dreams  have  any  prophetic  foreboding,  but  we  suggest,  that  there 
might  be  a  possibility  of  discovering  in  their  unconscious  material 
those  future  combinations  which  are  subliminal  just  because  they 
have  not  reached  the  distinctiveness  or  the  intensity  which  con- 
sciousness requires.  Here  I  am  thinking  of  those  indistinct 
presentments  of  the  future  which  we  sometimes  have,  which  are 
nothing  else  than  subliminal  combinations,  the  objective  value  of 
which  we  are  not  able  to  apperceive.  The  future  tendencies  of 
the  patient  are  elaborated  by  this  indirect  analysis,  and,  if  this 
work  is  successful,  the  convalescent  passes  out  of  treatment  and 
out  of  his  half -infantile  state  of  transference  into  life,  which  has 
been  inwardly  carefully  prepared  for,  which  has  been  chosen  by 
himself,  and  to  which,  after  many  deliberations,  he  has  at  last 
made  up  his  mind. 


CHAPTER  X 
SOME  GENERAL  REMARKS  ON  PSYCHOANALYSIS 

As  may  easily  be  understood,  psychoanalysis  will  never  do  for 
polyclinic  work,  and  will  therefore  always  remain  in  the  hands  of 
those  few  who,  because  of  their  innate  and  trained  psychological 
faculties,  are  particularly  apt  and  have  a  special  liking  for  this 
profession.  Just  as  not  every  physician  makes  a  good  surgeon, 
so  neither  will  every  one  make  a  good  psychoanalyst.  The  pre- 
dominant psychological  character  of  psychoanalytic  work  will 
make  it  difficult  for  doctors  to  monopolize  it.  Sooner  or  later 
other  faculties  will  master  it,  either  for  practical  uses  or  for  its 
theoretical  interest.  Of  course  the  treatment  must  remain  con- 
fined entirely  to  the  hands  of  responsible  scientific  people. 

So  long  as  official  science  excludes  psychoanalysis  from  gen- 
eral discussion,  as  pure  nonsense,  we  cannot  be  astonished  if  those 
belonging  to  other  faculties  master  this  material  even  before  the 
medical  profession.  And  this  will  occur  the  more  because  psy- 
choanalysis is  a  general  psychological  method  of  investigation, 
as  well  as  a  heuristic  principle  of  the  first  rank  in  all  departments 
of  mental  science  ("Geisteswissenschaften").  Chiefly  through 
the  work  of  the  Zurich  School,  the  possibility  of  applying  psycho- 
analysis to  the  domain  of  the  mental  diseases  has  been  demon- 
strated. Psychoanalytical  investigation  of  dementia  praecox,  for 
instance,  brought  us  the  most  valuable  insight  into  the  psycho- 
logical structure  of  this  remarkable  disease.  It  would  lead  me  too 
far  were  I  to  demonstrate  to  you  the  results  of  those  investiga- 
tions. The  theory  of  the  psychological  determinants  of  this 
disease  is  already  in  itself  a  vast  territory.  Even  if  I  had  to  treat 
but  the  symbolic  problems  of  dementia  praecox  I  should  be  obliged 
to  lay  before  you  so  much  material,  that  I  could  not  possibly 
master  it  within  the  limits  of  these  lectures,  which  must  give  a 
general  survey. 

The  question  of  dementia  praecox  has  become  so  extraor- 
dinarily complicated  because  of  the  quite  recent  incursion  on  the 

in 


112  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

part  of  psychoanalysis  into  the  domains  of  mythology  and  com- 
parative religion,  whence  we  have  derived  a  deeper  insight  into 
ethical  psychological  symbolism.  Those  who  are  well-acquainted 
with  the  symbolism  of  dreams  and  of  dementia  praecox  have  been 
greatly  impressed  by  the  striking  parallelism  between  modern 
individual  symbols  and  those  found  in  folk-lore.  The  extra- 
ordinary parallelism  between  ethnic  symbolism  and  that  of 
dementia  prsecox  is  remarkably  clear.  This  fact  induced  me  to 
make  an  extended  comparative  investigation  of  individual  and 
ethnic  symbolism,  the  results  of  which  have  been  recently  pub- 
lished.11 This  complication  of  psychology  with  the  problem  of 
mythology  makes  it  impossible  for  me  to  demonstrate  to  you  my 
conception  of  dementia  prascox.  For  the  same  reasons,  I  must 
forego  the  discussion  of  the  results  of  psychoanalytic  investiga- 
tion in  the  domain  of  mythology  and  comparative  religions.  It 
would  be  impossible  to  do  this  without  setting  forth  all  the 
material  belonging  to  it.  The  main  result  of  these  investigations 
is,  for  the  moment,  the  knowledge  of  the  far-reaching  parallelisms 
between  the  ethnical  and  the  individual  symbolisms.  From  the 
present  position  of  this  work,  we  can  scarcely  conceive  what  a 
vast  perspective  may  result  from  this  comparative  ethnopsychol- 
ogy.  Through  the  study  of  mythology,  the  psychoanalytical 
knowledge  of  the  nature  of  the  unconscious  processes  we  may 
expect  to  be  enormously  enriched  and  deepened. 

I  must  limit  myself,  if  I  am  to  give  you  in  the  course  of  my 
lectures  a  more  or  less  general  presentation  of  the  psychoanalytic 
school.  A  detailed  elaboration  of  this  method  and  its  theory 
would  have  demanded  an  enormous  display  of  cases,  whose 
delineation  would  have  detracted  from  a  comprehensive  view  of 
the  whole.  But  to  give  you  an  insight  into  the  concrete  proceed- 
ings of  psychoanalytic  treatment,  I  decided  to  bring  before  you 
a  short  analysis  of  a  girl  of  eleven  years  of  age.  The  case  was 
analyzed  by  my  assistant,  Miss  Mary  Moltzer.  In  the  first  place, 
I  must  mention  that  this  case  is  by  no  means  typical,  either  in  the 
length  of  its  time,  or  in  the  course  of  its  general  analysis;  it  is 
just  as  little  so  as  an  individual  is  characteristic  for  all  other 
people.  Nowhere  is  the  abstraction  of  universal  rules  more  diffi- 
cult than  in  psychoanalysis,  for  which  reason  it  is  better  to  abstain 

11 "  Wandlungen  und  Symbole  der  Libido,"  Wien,  1912. 


GENERAL   REMARKS   ON    PSYCHOANALYSIS  113 

from  too  many  rules.  We  must  never  forget  that,  notwithstand- 
ing the  great  uniformity  of  complexes  and  conflicts,  every  case 
is  unique.  For  every  individual  is  unique.  Every  case  demands 
from  the  physician  an  individual  interest,  and  in  every  case  you 
will  find  the  course  of  analysis  different.  In  describing  this  case, 
I  offer  you  a  small  section  of  the  vast  diverse  psychological 
world,  showing  all  those  apparently  bizarre  and  arbitrary  pecu- 
liarities scattered  over  human  life  by  the  whims  of  so-called 
chance.  I  have  no  intention  of  withholding  any  of  the  minute 
psychoanalytic  details,  as  I  do  not  want  to  make  you  believe  that 
psychoanalysis  is  a  method  with  rigid  laws.  The  scientific  inter- 
est of  the  investigator  inclines  him  to  find  rules  and  categories,  in 
which  the  most  living  of  all  things  alive  can  be  included.  But 
the  physician  as  well  as  the  observer,  free  from  all  formulas, 
ought  to  have  an  open  eye  for  the  whole  lawless  wealth  of  living 
reality.  In  this  way  I  will  endeavor  to  present  to  you  this  case, 
and  I  hope  also  to  succeed  in  demonstrating  to  you  how  differ- 
ently an  analysis  develops  from  what  might  have  been  expected 
from  purely  theoretical  considerations. 

A  CASE  OF  NEUROSIS  IN  A  CHILD 

The  case  in  question  is  that  of  an  intelligent  girl  of  eleven 
years  of  age,  of  good  family.  The  history  of  the  disease  is  as. 
follows : 

Anamnesis 

She  had  to  leave  school  several  times  on  account  of  sudden 
sickness  and  headache,  and  was  obliged  to  go  to  bed.  In  the 
morning  she  sometimes  refused  to  get  up  and  go  to  school.  She 
suffered  from  bad  dreams,  was  capricious  and  not  to  be  counted 
upon. 

I  informed  the  mother,  who  came  to  consult  me,  that  these 
things  were  neurotic  signs,  and  that  some  special  circumstance 
must  be  hidden  there,  necessitating  an  interrogation  of  the  child. 
This  supposition  was  not  arbitrary,  for  every  attentive  observer 
knows  that  if  children  are  restless  or  in  bad  temper,  there  is 
always  something  painful  worrying  them.  If  it  were  not  painful, 
they  would  tell  it,  and  they  would  not  be  worried  over  it.  Of 
course,  I  am  only  speaking  of  those  cases  having  a  psychogenic 


114  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

cause.  The  child  confessed  to  her  mother  the  following  story: 
She  had  a  favorite  teacher,  of  whom  she  was  very  fond.  During 
this  last  term  she  had  fallen  back  somewhat,  through  working 
insufficiently,  and  she  believed  she  had  rather  fallen  in  the 
estimation  of  her  teacher.  She  then  began  to  feel  sick  during 
his  lessons.  She  felt  not  only  estranged  from  her  teacher,  but 
even  somewhat  hostile.  She  directed  all  her  friendly  feelings  to 
a  poor  boy  with  whom  she  usually  shared  the  bread  which  she 
took  to  school.  Later  on  she  gave  him  money,  so  that  he  could 
buy  bread  for  himself.  In  a  conversation  with  this  boy  she  made 
fun  of  her  teacher  and  called  him  a  goat.  The  boy  attached 
himself  more  and  more  to  her,  and  considered  that  he  had  the 
right  to  levy  a  tax  on  her  occasionally  in  the  form  of  a  little 
present  of  money.  She  now  became  greatly  alarmed  lest  the  boy 
might  tell  her  teacher  that  she  turned  him  into  ridicule  and  called 
him  a  "  goat,"  and  she  promised  him  two  francs  if  he  would  give 
his  solemn  word  never  to  tell  anything  to  her  teacher.  From  that 
moment  the  boy  began  to  exploit  her;  he  demanded  money  with 
threats  and  persecuted  her  with  his  demands  on  the  way  to  school. 
This  made  her  perfectly  miserable.  Her  attacks  of  sickness  are 
closely  connected  with  all  this  story.  But  after  the  affair  had 
been  disposed  of  by  this  confession,  her  peace  of  mind  was  not 
restored  as  might  have  been  expected. 

We  very  often  see,  as  I  have  said,  that  the  mere  relation  of  a 
painful  affair  can  have  an  important  therapeutical  effect.  Gen- 
erally this  does  not  last  very  long,  although  on  occasion  such  a 
favorable  effect  can  maintain  itself  for  a  long  time.  Such  a  con- 
fession is  naturally  a  long  way  from  being  an  analysis.  But 
there  are  nerve-specialists  nowadays  who  believe  that  an  analysis 
is  only  a  somewhat  more  extensive  anamnesis  or  confession. 

A  little  while  later  the  child  had  an  attack  of  coughing  and 
missed  school  for  one  day.  After  that  she  went  to  school  for 
one  day  and  felt  perfectly  well.  On  the  third  day,  a  renewed 
.attack  of  coughing  came  on,  with  pains  on  the  left  side,  fever  and 
vomiting.  Her  temperature,  accurately  taken,  showed  39.4°  C., 
about  103°  F.  The  doctor  feared  pneumonia.  But  the  next  day 
everything  had  passed  away.  She  felt  quite  well  and  not  the 
slightest  sign  of  fever  or  sickness  was  to  be  noted. 

But  still  our  little  patient  wept  the  whole  time  and  did  not  wish 


GENERAL   REMARKS   ON    PSYCHOANALYSIS  11$ 

to  get  up.    From  this  strange  course  of  events  I  suspected  some 
serious  neurosis,  and  I  therefore  advised  treatment  by  analysis. 

Analytic  Treatment 

First  interview :  The  little  girl  seemed  to  be  nervous  and  con- 
strained, having  a  disagreeable  forced  laugh.  Miss  Moltzer,  who 
analyzed  her,  gave  her  first  of  all  an  opportunity  of  talking  about 
her  staying  in  bed.  We  learn  that  she  liked  it  immensely,  as  she 
always  had  some  society.  Everybody  came  to  see  her;  also  her 
mother  read  to  her  out  of  a  book  which  contained  the  story  of 
a  prince  who  was  ill,  but  who  recovered  when  his  wish  was  ful- 
filled, the  wish  being  that  his  little  friend,  a  poor  boy,  might  be 
allowed  to  stay  with  him. 

The  obvious  relation  between  this  story  and  her  own  little 
love-story,  as  well  as  its  connection  with  her  own  illness,  was 
pointed  out  to  her,  whereupon  she  began  to  cry  and  say  she  would 
prefer  to  go  to  the  other  children  and  play  with  them,  otherwise 
they  would  run  off.  This  was  at  once  allowed,  and  away  she 
ran,  but  came  back  again,  after  a  short  while,  somewhat  embar- 
rassed. It  was  explained  to  her  that  she  did  not  run  away  be- 
cause she  was  afraid  her  playmates  would  go,  but  that  she  her- 
self wanted  to  get  off  because  of  resistances. 

At  the  second  interview  she  was  less  anxious  and  repressed. 
They  happened  to  speak  about  the  teacher,  but  then  she  was 
embarrassed.  She  seemed  to  be  ashamed  at  the  end,  and  she 
timidly  confessed  that  she  liked  her  teacher  very  much.  It  was 
then  explained  to  her  that  she  need  not  be  ashamed  of  that;  on 
the  contrary,  her  love  for  him  could  be  a  valuable  stimulus  to 
make  her  do  her  very  best  in  his  lessons.  "  So  I  may  love  him?" 
asked  the  little  patient  with  a  happier  face. 

This  explanation  justified  the  child  in  the  choice  of  the  object 
of  her  affection.  It  seems  as  if  she  had  been  ashamed  of  admit- 
ting her  feelings  for  her  teacher.  It  is  not  easy  to  explain  why 
this  should  be  so.  Our  present  conception  tells  us  that  the  libido 
has  great  difficulty  in  taking  hold  of  a  personality  outside  the 
family,  because  it  still  finds  itself  in  incestuous  bonds, — a  very 
plausible  view  indeed,  from  which  it  is  difficult  to  withdraw. 
But  we  must  point  out  here  that  her  libido  was  placed  with  much 


Il6  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

intensity  upon  the  poor  boy,  who  was  also  someone  outside  the 
family;  whence  we  must  conclude  that  the  difficulty  was  not  to 
be  found  in  the  transference  of  the  libido  outside  the  family,  but 
in  some  other  circumstance.  The  love  of  the  teacher  betokens 
a  difficult  task ;  it  demands  much  more  than  her  love  for  the  little 
boy,  which  does  not  require  any  moral  effort  on  her  part.  This 
indication  in  the  analysis  that  her  love  for  her  teacher  would 
enable  her  to  do  her  utmost  brings  the  child  back  to  her  real 
duty,  namely,  her  adaptation  to  her  teacher. 

The  libido  retires  from  before  such  a  necessary  task,  for  the 
very  human  reason  of  indolence,  which  is  highly  developed,  not 
only  in  children,  but  also  in  primitive  people.  Primitive  laziness 
and  indolence  are  the  first  resistances  to  the  efforts  towards 
adaptation.  The  libido  which  is  not  used  for  this  purpose  be- 
comes stagnant  and  will  make  the  inevitable  regression  to  former 
objects  or  modes  of  employment.  It  is  thus  that  the  incest- 
complex  is  revived  in  such  a  striking  way.  The  libido  avoids 
the  object  which  is  so  difficult  to  attain  and  demands  such  great 
efforts,  and  turns  towards  the  easier  ones,  and  finally  to  the 
easiest  of  all,  namely,  the  infantile  phantasies,  which  thus  become 
real  incest-phantasies.  The  fact  that,  wherever  there  is  present 
a  disturbance  of  psychological  adaptation,  one  finds  an  exagger- 
ated development  of  incest-pjiantasies.  must  be  conceived,  as  I 
have  pointed  out,  as  a  regressive  phenomenon.  That  is  to  say, 
the  incest-phantasy  is  of  secondary  and  not  of  causal  significance, 
while  the  primary  cause  is  the  resistance  of  human  nature  against 
any  kind  of  exertion.  The  drawing  back  from  certain  duties  is 
not  to  be  explained  by  saying  that  man  prefers  the  incestuous 
condition,  but  he  has  to  fall  back  into  it,  because  he  shuns  exer- 
tion; otherwise  it  would  have  to  be  said  that  the  aversion  from 
conscious  effort  must  be  taken  as  identical  with  the  preference 
for  incestuous  relations.  This  would  be  obvious  nonsense,  for 
not  only  primitive  man,  but  animals  too,  have  a  pronounced  dis- 
like for  all  intentional  efforts,  and  pay  homage  to  absolute  lazi- 
ness, until  circumstances  force  them  into  action.  We  cannot 
pretend,  either  in  very  primitive  people  or  in  animals,  that  their 
preference  for  incestuous  relations  causes  aversion  towards 
efforts  of  adaptation,  as  in  those  cases  there  can  be  no  question 


GENERAL   REMARKS   ON    PSYCHOANALYSIS  117 

of  "  incestuous  "  relations.  This  would  presuppose  a  differentia- 
tion of  parents  and  non-parents. 

Characteristically,  the  child  expressed  her  joy  at  being 
allowed  to  love  her  teacher,  but  not  at  being  allowed  to  do  her 
utmost  for  him.  That  she  might  love  her  teacher  is  what  she 
understood  at  once,  because  it  suited  her  best.  Her  relief  was 
caused  by  the  information  that  she  was  right  in  loving  him,  even 
though  she  did  not  especially  exert  herself  before. 

The  conversation  ran  on  to  the  story  of  the  extortion,  which 
is  now  again  told  in  details.  We  hear  further  that  she  had  tried 
to  force  open  her  savings-bank,  and  as  she  could  not  succeed  in 
doing  so,  she  wanted  to  steal  the  key  from  her  mother.  She 
expressed  herself  thus  about  the  whole  matter:  she  ridiculed  her 
teacher  because  he  was  much  kinder  to  the  other  girls  than  to 
her.  But  it  was  true  that  she  did  not  do  very  well  in  his  lessons, 
especially  at  arithmetic.  Once  she  did  not  understand  something, 
was  afraid  to  ask,  for  fear  she  might  lose  his  esteem,  and  conse- 
quently she  made  many  mistakes  and  did  really  lose  it.  It  is 
pretty  clear  that  her  position  towards  her  teacher  became  conse- 
quently very  unsatisfactory.  About  this  time  it  happened  that  a 
young  girl  in  her  class  was  sent  home  because  she  was  sick.  Soon 
after,  the  same  thing  happened  to  herself.  In  this  way,  she  tried 
to  get  away  from  the  school  which  had  become  uncongenial  to 
her.  The  loss  of  her  teacher's  respect  led  her  on  the  one  hand 
to  insult  him  and  on  the  other  into  the  affair  with  the  little  boy, 
obviously  as  a  compensation  for  the  lost  relationship  with  the 
teacher.  The  explanation  which  was  given  here  was  a  simple 
hint:  she  would  be  rendering  a  service  to  her  teacher  if  she  took 
pains  to  understand  the  lessons  by  sensible  questions. 

I  can  add  here  that  this  hint,  given  in  the  analysis,  had  a  good 
effect;  from  that  moment  the  little  girl  became  one  of  the  best  of 
pupils,  and  missed  no  more  arithmetic  lessons. 

We  must  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  story  of  the  boy's 
extortion  shows  constraint  and  a  lack  of  freedom.  This  phe- 
nomenon exactly  follows  the  rule.  As  soon  as  anyone  permits 
his  libido  to  draw  back  from  necessary  tasks,  it  becomes  autono- 
mous and  chooses,  without  regard  to  the  protests  of  the  subject, 
its  own  way,  and  pursues  it  obstinately.  It  is  a  general  fact,  that 
a  lazy  and  inactive  life  is  highly  susceptible  to  the  coercion  of  the 


Il8  THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

libido,  that  is  to  say,  to  all  kinds  of  terrors  and  involuntary  obli- 
gations. The  anxieties  and  superstitions  of  savages  furnish  us 
with  the  best  illustrations;  but  our  own  history  of  civilization, 
especially  the  civilization  and  customs  of  the  ancients,  abounds 
with  confirmations.  Non-employment  of  the  libido  makes  it 
autonomous,  but  we  must  not  believe  either  that  we  are  able  to 
save  ourselves  permanently  from  the  coercion  of  the  libido  by 
making  forced  efforts.  To  a  certain  limited  extent  we  are  able 
to  set  conscious  tasks  to  our  libido,  but  other  natural  tasks  are 
chosen  by  the  libido  itself,  and  that  is  what  the  libido  exists  for. 
If  we  avoid  those  tasks,  the  most  active  life  can  become  useless, 
for  we  have  to  deal  with  the  whole  of  the  conditions  of  our  human 
nature.  Innumerable  cases  of  neurasthenia  from  overwork  can 
be  traced  back  to  this  cause,  for  work  done  amid  internal  con- 
flicts creates  nervous  exhaustion. 

At  the  third  interview  the  little  girl  related  a  dream  she  had 
had  when  she  was  five  years  old,  and  by  which  she  was  greatly 
impressed.  She  says,  "  I'll  never  forget  this  dream."  The  dream 
runs  as  follows :  "  /  am  in  a  wood  with  my  little  brother  and  we 
are  looking  for  strawberries.  Then  a  wolf  came  and  jumped  at 
me.  I  took  to  a  staircase,  the  wolf  after  me.  I  fall  down  and 
the  wolf  bites  my  leg.  I  awoke  in  terror." 

Before  we  go  into  the  associations  given  by  our  little  patient, 
I  will  try  to  form  an  arbitrary  opinion  about  the  possible  content 
of  the  dream,  and  then  compare  our  result  afterwards  with  the 
associations  given  by  the  child.  The  beginning  of  the  dream 
reminds  us  of  the  well-known  German  fairy-tale  of  Little  Red- 
Ridinghood,  which  is,  of  course,  known  to  the  child.  The  wolf 
ate  the  grandmother  first,  then  took  her  shape,  and  afterwards 
ate  Little  Red-Ridinghood.  But  the  hunter  killed  the  wolf,  cut 
open  the  belly  and  Little  Red-Ridinghood  sprang  out  safe  and 
sound.  This  motive  is  found  in  a  great  many  fairy-tales,  wide- 
spread over  the  whole  world,  and  it  is  the  motive  of  the  biblical 
story  of  Jonah.  The  original  significance  is  astro-mythological: 
the  sun  is  swallowed  up  by  the  sea,  and  in  the  morning  is  born 
again  out  of  the  water.  Of  course,  the  whole  of  astro-mythology 
is  at  the  root  but  psychology,  unconscious  psychology,  projected  on 
to  the  heavens,  for  myths  have  never  been  and  are  never  made  con- 
sciously, but  arise  from  man's  unconscious.  For  this  reason,  we 


GENERAL   REMARKS   ON    PSYCHOANALYSIS  1 19 

sometimes  find  that  marvellous,  striking  similarity  or  identity  in 
the  forms  of  myths,  even  among  races  that  have  been  separated 
from  each  other  since  eternity  as  it  were.  This  explains  the 
universal  dissemination  of  the  symbol  of  the  cross,  perfectly 
independent  of  Christianity,  of  which  America,  as  is  well  known, 
furnishes  us  especially  interesting  instances.  It  is  impossible  to 
agree,  that  myths  have  been  made  to  explain  meteorological  or 
astronomical  processes.  Myths  are,  first  of  all,  manifestations 
of  unconscious  currents,  similar  to  dreams.12  These  currents  are 
caused  by  the  libido  in  its  unconscious  forms.  The  material 
which  comes  to  the  surface  is  infantile  material,  hence,  phan- 
tasies connected  with  the  incest-complex.  Without  difficulty  we 
can  find  in  all  the  so-called  sun-myths  infantile  theories  about 
generation,  childbirth  and  incestuous  relations.  In  the  fairy-tale 
of  Little  Red-Ridinghood,  we  find  the  phantasy  that  the  mother 
has  to  eat  something  which  is  similar  to  a  child,  and  that  the  child 
is  born  by  cutting  open  the  mother's  body.  This  phantasy  is  one 
of  the  most  universal,  to  be  found  everywhere. 

We  can  conclude,  from  these  universal  psychological  observa- 
tions, that  the  child,  in  its  dream,  elaborates  the  problem  of 
generation  and  childbirth.  As  to  the  wolf,  the  father  probably 
has  to  be  put  in  its  place,  for  the  child  unconsciously  assigns  to 
the  father  any  act  of  violence  towards  the  mother.  This  antici- 
pation can  be  based  on  innumerable  myths  which  deal  with  the 
problem  of  any  act  of  violence  towards  the  mother.  In  reference 
to  the  mythological  parallelism,  let  me  direct  your  attention  to 
Boas's  collection,  where  you  will  find  a  beautiful  set  of  Indian 
legends;  also  to  the  work  of  Frobenius,  "Das  Zeitaltes  Sonnen- 
gottes";  and,  finally,  to  the  works  of  Abraham,  Rank,  Riklin, 
Jones,  Freud,  Spielrein,  and  my  own  investigations  in  my 
"  Wandlungen  und  Symbole  der  Libido." 

After  having  made  these  general  observations  for  theoretical 
reasons,  which,  of  course,  were  not  made  in  the  concrete  case, 
we  will  go  back  to  see  what  the  child  has  to  tell  in  regard  to  her 
dream.  Of  course  the  child  speaks  of  her  dream  just  as  she 
likes,  without  being  influenced  in  any  way  whatever.  The  little 
girl  begins  with  the  bite  in  her  leg,  and  relates,  that  she  had  once 
been  told  by  a  woman  who  had  had  a  baby,  that  she  could  still 

12  Abraham,  "  Dreams  and  Myths,"  No.  15  of  the  Monograph  Series. 


120  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

show  the  place  where  the  stork  had  bitten  her.  This  mode  of 
expression  is,  in  Switzerland,  a  universally  known  variant  of  the 
symbolism  of  generation  and  birth.  Here  we  find  a  perfect 
parallelism  between  our  interpretation  and  the  associations  of  the 
child.  The  first  associations  which  have  been  brought  by  the 
child,  without  being  influenced  in  any  way,  are  connected  with 
the  problem  which,  for  theoretical  reasons,  was  suggested  by  our- 
selves. I  know  well  that  the  innumerable  cases,  published  in  our 
psychoanalytic  literature,  where  the  patients  have  certainly  not 
been  influenced,  have  not  prevented  the  critics'  contention,  that  we 
suggest  our  own  interpretations  to  our  patients.  This  case  will 
not,  therefore,  convince  anyone  who  is  determined  to  find  crude 
mistakes  or,  much  worse  still — fabrications. 

After  our  little  patient  had  finished  her  first  association,  she 
was  asked,  "What  did  the  wolf  suggest?"  She  answered,  "I 
think  of  my  father,  when  he  is  angry."  This  association  also 
coincides  with  our  theoretical  observations.  It  might  be  objected 
that  the  observation  was  made  just  for  this  purpose  and  for 
nothing  else,  and  has  therefore  no  general  validity.  I  believe 
that  this  objection  vanishes  of  itself  as  soon  as  the  corresponding 
psychoanalytic  and  mythological  knowledge  has  been  acquired. 
The  validity  of  an  hypothesis  can  only  be  confirmed  by  positive 
knowledge;  otherwise  it  is  impossible  to  confirm  it.  We  have 
seen  by  the  first  association  that  the  wolf  has  been  replaced  by 
the  stork.  The  associations  given  to  the  wolf  bring  the  father. 
In  the  common  myth,  the  stork  stands  for  the  father,  as  the 
father  brings  children.  The  apparent  contradiction,  which  could 
be  noticed  here  between  the  fairy-tale,  where  the  wolf  represents 
the  mother,  and  the  dream,  in  which  the  wolf  stands  for  the 
father,  is  of  no  importance  for  the  dream.  I  must  renounce  here 
any  attempt  at  a  detailed  explanation.  I  have  treated  this  prob- 
lem of  bisexual  symbols  in  the  work  already  referred  to.  You 
know  that  in  the  legend  of  Romulus  and  Remus,  both  animals 
were  raised  to  the  rank  of  parents,  the  bird  Picus  and  the  wolf. 

The  fear  of  the  wolf  in  the  dream  is  therefore  fear  of  her 
father.  The  little  patient  explains  her  fear  of  her  father  by  his 
severity  towards  her.  He  had  also  told  her  that  we  only  have 
bad  dreams  when  we  have  been  doing  wrong.  Later,  she  once 
asked  her  father,  "  But  what  does  Mamma  do  wrong?  "  She  has 
very  often  frightful  dreams." 


GENERAL   REMARKS   ON    PSYCHOANALYSIS  121 

The  father  once  slapped  her  fingers  because  she  was  sucking 
them.  Was  this  her  naughtiness  ?  Scarcely,  because  sucking  the 
fingers  is  an  anachronistic  infantile  habit,  of  little  interest  at  her 
age.  It  only  seems  to  annoy  her  father,  for  which  he  will  punish 
and  hit  her.  In  this  way,  she  relieves  her  conscience  of  the  un- 
confessed  and  much  more  serious  sin.  It  comes  out,  that  she  has 
induced  a  number  of  other  girls  to  perform  mutual  masturbation. 

These  sexual  tendencies  have  caused  the  fear  of  the  father. 
Still,  we  must  not  forget  that  she  had  this  dream  in  her  fifth  year. 
At  that  time  these  sins  had  not  been  committed.  Hence  we  must 
regard  this  affair  with  the  other  girls  as  a  reason  for  her  present 
fear  of  her  father;  but  that  does  not  explain  the  earlier  fear. 
But  still,  we  may  expect  it  was  something  of  a  similar  nature, 
some  unconscious  sexual  wish,  corresponding  to  the  psychology 
of  the  forbidden  action  previously  mentioned.  The  moral  value 
and  character  of  this  wish  is  even  more  unconscious  with  the  child 
than  with  adults.  To  understand  what  had  made  an  impression 
on  the  child,  we  have  to  ask  what  happened  in  her  fifth  year. 
Her  youngest  brother  was  born  at  that  time.  Even  then  her 
father  had  made  her  nervous.  The  associations  previously  re- 
ferred to  give  us  an  undoubted  connection  between  her  sexual 
inclinations  and  her  anxiety.  The  sexual  problem,  which  nature 
connects  with  positive  feelings  of  delight,  is  in  the  dream  brought 
to  the  surface  in  the  form  of  fear,  apparently  on  account  of  the 
bad  father,  who  represents  moral  education.  This  dream  illus- 
trates the  first  impressive  appearance  of  the  sexual  problem, 
obviously  suggested  by  the  recent  birth  of  the  little  brother,  just 
such  an  occasion  when  experience  teaches  us  that  these  questions 
become  vital. 

Just  because  the  sexual  problem  is  closely  connected  with  cer- 
tain pleasurable  physical  sensations,  which  education  tries  to 
reduce  and  break  off,  it  can  apparently  only  manifest  itself  hidden 
under  the  cloak  of  moral  anxiety  as  to  sin.  This  explanation  cer- 
tainly seems  rather  plausible,  but  it  is  superficial,  it  is  insufficient. 
It  attributes  the  difficulties  to  the  moral  education,  on  the  un- 
proved assumption  that  education  can  cause  such  a  neurosis. 
We  hereby  leave  out  of  consideration  the  fact  that  there  are 
people  who  have  become  neurotic  and  suffer  from  morbid  fears 
without  having  had  a  trace  of  moral  education.  Moreover,  the 


122  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

moral  law  is  not  merely  an  evil,  which  has  to  be  resisted,  but  a 
necessity,  born  out  of  the  utmost  needs  of  humanity.  The  moral 
law  is  only  an  outward  manifestation  of  the  innate  human  impulse 
to  dominate  and  tame  oneself.  The  origin  of  the  impulse  towards 
domestication  or  civilization  is  lost  in  the  unfathomable  depths  of 
the  history  of  evolution,  and  can  never  be  conceived  as  the  conse- 
quence of  certain  laws  imposed  from  without.  Man  himself, 
obeying  his  instincts,  created  laws.  Therefore,  we  shall  never 
understand  the  reasons  for  the  repression  of  sexuality  in  the  child 
if  we  only  take  into  account  the  moral  influences  of  education. 
The  main  reasons  are  to  be  found  much  deeper,  in  human  nature 
itself,  in  its  perhaps  tragic  contradiction  between  civilization  and 
nature,  or  between  individual  consciousness  and  the  general  con- 
science of  the  community.  I  cannot  enter  into  these  questions 
now;  in  my  other  work,  I  have  tried  to  do  so.  Naturally,  it 
would  be  of  no  value  to  give  a  child  a  notion  of  the  higher  philo- 
sophical aspects  of  the  problem ;  that  would  probably  not  have  the 
slightest  effect. 

The  child  wants,  first  of  all,  to  be  relieved  from  the  idea  that 
she  is  doing  wrong  in  being  interested  in  the  generation  of  life. 
By  the  analytic  explanation  of  this  complex  it  is  made  clear  to 
the  child  how  much  pleasure  and  curiosity  she  really  takes  in  the 
problem  of  generation,  and  how  her  groundless  fear  is  the  inver- 
sion of  her  repressed  desire.  The  affair  of  her  masturbation 
meets  with  a  tolerant  understanding  and  the  discussion  is  limited 
to  drawing  the  child's  attention  to  the  aimlessness  of  her  action. 
At  the  same  time  it  is  explained  to  her  that  her  sexual  actions  are 
mainly  the  consequences  of  her  curiosity,  which  might  be  satisfied 
in  a  better  way.  Her  great  fear  of  her  father  corresponds,  prob- 
ably, with  as  great  an  expectation,  which,  in  consequence  of  the 
birth  of  her  little  brother,  is  closely  connected  with  the  problem 
of  generation.  Through  this  explanation,  the  child  is  declared  to 
be  justified  in  her  curiosity  and  the  greater  part  of  her  moral  con- 
flict is  eliminated. 

Fourth  Interview.  The  little  girl  is  now  much  nicer  and  much 
more  confiding.  Her  former  unnatural  and  constrained  manner 
has  vanished.  She  brings  a  dream  which  she  dreamed  after  the 
last  sitting.  It  runs:  "/  am  as  tall  as  a  church-tower  and  can 
see  into  every  house.  At  my  feet  are  very  small  children,  as 


GENERAL   REMARKS   ON    PSYCHOANALYSIS  123 

small  as  flowers  are.  A  policeman  comes.  I  say  to  him,  "If 
you  dare  to  make  any  remark,  I  shall  take  your  sword  and  cut 
off  your  head." 

In  the  analysis  of  this  dream  she  makes  the  following  remarks : 
"  I  would  like  to  be  taller  than  my  father,  for  then  he  will  have  to 
obey  me."  The  first  association  with  policeman  was  father.  He 
is  a  military  man  and  has,  of  course,  a  sword.  The  dream  clearly 
fulfils  her  wish.  In  the  form  of  a  tower,  she  is  much  bigger  than 
her  father,  and  if  he  dares  to  make  a  remark,  he  will  be  de- 
capitated. The  dream  fulfils  the  natural  wish  of  the  child  to  be 
a  grown-up  person,  and  to  have  children  playing  at  her  feet, 
symbolized  in  the  dream  by  the  small  children.  With  this  dream 
she  overcomes  her  great  fear  of  her  father;  that  means  an  im- 
portant improvement  with  regard  to  her  personal  freedom,  and 
her  certainty  of  feeling. 

But  incidentally  there  is  here  also  a  theoretical  gain ;  we  may 
consider  this  dream  to  be  a  clear  example  of  the  compensating  and 
teleological  function  of  dreams  which  was  especially  pointed  out 
by  Maeder.  Such  a  dream  must  leave  with  the  dreamer  an  in- 
creased sense  of  the  value  of  her  own  personality,  which  is  of 
much  importance  for  personal  well-being.  It  does  not  matter 
that  the  symbols  of  the  dream  are  not  perceived  by  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  child,  as  conscious  perception  is  not  necessary  to 
derive  from  symbols  their  corresponding  emotional  effect.  We 
have  to  do  here  with  knowledge  derived  from  intuition ;  in  other 
words,  it  is  that  kind  of  perception  on  which  at  all  times  the  effect 
produced  by  religious  symbols  has  depended.  Here  no  conscious 
understanding  has  been  needed ;  the  feelings  are  affected  by  means 
of  emotional  intuition. 

Fifth  Interview.  In  the  fifth  sitting,  the  child  brings  a  dream 
which  she  had  dreamt  meanwhile.  "  /  am  with  my  whole  family 
on  the  roof.  The  windows  of  the  houses  on  the  other  side  of  the 
valley  radiate  like  fire.  The  rising  sun  is  reflected.  Suddenly  I 
notice  that  the  house  at  the  corner  of  our  street  is,  as  a  fact,  on 
fire.  The  fire  comes  nearer  and  nearer;  at  last  our  house  is  also 
on  fire.  I  take  flight  into  the  street  and  my  mother  throws  several 
things  to  me.  I  hold  out  my  apron,  and  among  other  things  my 
doll  is  thrown  to  me.  I  notice  that  the  stones  of  our  house  are 
burning,  but  the  wood  remains  untouched." 


124  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

The  analysis  of  this  dream  presents  peculiar  difficulties  and 
therefore  required  two  sittings.  It  would  lead  me  too  far  to 
sketch  to  you  all  the  material  this  dream  brought  forth.  I  have 
to  limit  myself  to  what  is  most  necessary.  The  associations 
which  deal  with  the  real  meaning  of  the  dream  belong  to  the 
remarkable  image  which  tells  us  that  the  stones  of  the  house  are 
on  fire,  while  the  wood  remains  untouched.  It  is  sometimes 
worth  while,  especially  with  longer  dreams,  to  take  out  the  most 
striking  parts  and  to  analyze  them  first.  This  proceeding  is  not 
the  typical  one,  but  it  is  justified  by  the  practical  desire  to  shorten 
matters.  The  little  patient  makes  the  observation  that  this  part 
of  the  dream  is  like  a  fairy-tale.  Through  examples  it  was  made 
plain  to  her  that  fairy-tales  always  have  a  meaning.  She  objects: 
"  But  not  all  fairy-tales  have  one.  For  instance,  the  tale  of  the 
Sleeping  Beauty.  What  could  that  mean?"  The  explanation 
was  as  follows :  "  The  Sleeping  Beauty  had  to  wait  for  one  hun- 
dred years  in  an  enchanted  sleep  until  she  could  be  freed.  Only 
he  who  was  able  to  overcome  all  the  difficulties  through  love,  and 
had  the  courage  to  break  through  the  thorny  hedge,  was  able  to 
deliver  her.  So  one  must  often  wait  a  long  while  to  obtain  what 
one  longs  for." 

This  explanation  is  as  much  in  harmony  with  the  capacity  of 
childish  understanding,  as  it  is  perfectly  consonant  with  the  his- 
tory of  the  motive  of  this  fairy-tale.  The  motive  of  the  Sleeping 
Beauty  shows  clearly  its  relation  to  an  ancient  myth  of  Spring 
and  fertility,  and  contains  at  the  same  time  a  problem  which  has 
a  remarkably  close  affinity  to  the  psychological  situation  of  the 
precocious  girl  of  eleven. 

This  motive  of  the  Sleeping  Beauty  belongs  to  a  whole  cycle 
of  legends  in  which  a  virgin,  closely  guarded  by  a  dragon,  is  de- 
livered by  a  hero.  Without  entering  into  the  interpretation  of 
this  myth,  I  want  to  bring  into  prominence  the  astronomical  or 
meteorological  components  which  are  very  clearly  demonstrated 
in  the  Edda.  In  the  form  of  a  virgin,  the  Earth  is  kept  prisoner 
by  the  winter,  covered  in  ice  and  snow.  The  young  Spring-Sun, 
in  the  form  of  a  hero,  delivers  her  out  of  her  frosty  prison,  where 
she  has  been  longing  for  her  deliverer. 

The  association  given  by  the  little  girl  was  chosen  by  her 
simply  to  give  an  example  of  a  fairy-tale  without  a  meaning,  and 


GENERAL   REMARKS   ON    PSYCHOANALYSIS  125 

was  not,  in  the  first  place,  conceived  as  having  any  relation  with 
the  house  on  fire.  To  this  part  of  the  dream,  she  only  made  the 
observation :  "  It  is  quite  marvellous,  just  like  a  fairy-tale."  She 
meant  to  say  it  was  impossible,  as  the  idea  of  burning  stones  is  to 
her  something  impossible,  some  nonsense,  or  something  like  a 
fairy-tale.  The  observation  made  a  propos  of  this  shows  her  that 
an  impossibility  and  a  fairy-tale  are  only  partly  identical,  since 
a  fairy-tale  certainly  has  much  meaning.  Although  this  particular 
fairy-tale,  from  the  casual  way  in  which  it  was  mentioned,  seemed 
to  have  no  apparent  relation  to  the  dream,  we  have  to  pay  special 
attention  to  it,  as  it  was  given  spontaneously  in  the  course  of  the 
interpretation  of  the  dream.  The  unconscious  suggested  this 
example,  which  cannot  be  accidental,  but  must  be  in  some  way 
significant  for  the  present  situation.  In  interpreting  dreams  we 
have  to  pay  attention  to  such  apparent  accidents,  since  in  psychol- 
ogy we  find  no  blind  chances,  much  as  we  are  inclined  to  think 
these  things  accidental.  From  the  critics,  you  may  hear  this  ob- 
jection as  often  as  you  like,  but  for  a  really  scientific  mind  there 
are  only  causal  relationships  and  no  accidents.  From  the  fact 
that  the  little  girl  chose  the  example  of  the  Sleeping  Beauty  we 
may  conclude  that  there  was  some  fundamental  reason  underlying 
this  in  the  psychology  of  the'  child.  This  reason  is  a  comparison, 
or  partial  identification,  of  herself  with  the  Sleeping  Beauty;  in 
other  words,  there  is  in  the  soul  of  the  child  a  complex,  which 
manifests  itself  in  the  form  of  the  motive  of  the  Sleeping  Beauty. 
The  explanation,  which  I  mentioned  before,  which  was  given  to 
the  child,  was  in  harmony  with  this  conclusion. 

Notwithstanding  she  is  not  quite  satisfied,  and  doubts  that  all 
fairy-tales  have  a  meaning.  She  brings  another  instance  of  a 
fairy-tale,  that  cannot  be  understood.  She  brings  the  story  of 
little  Snow-White,  who,  in  the  sleep  of  death,  lies  enclosed  in  a 
coffin  of  glass.  It  is  not  difficult  to  see  that  this  fairy-tale  belongs 
to  the  same  kind  of  myths  to  which  the  Sleeping  Beauty  belongs. 
The  story  of  little  Snow-White  in  her  glass-coffin  is  at  the  same 
time  very  remarkable  in  regard  to  the  myth  of  the  seasons.  This 
mythical  material  chosen  by  the  little  girl  has  reference  to  an 
intuitive  comparison  with  the  earth,  held  fast  by  the  winter's  cold, 
awaiting  the  liberating  sun  of  spring. 

This  second  example  affirms  the  first  one  and  its  explanation. 


126  THE  THEORY  OF  PSYCHOANALYSIS 

It  would  be  difficult  to  pretend  here  that  this  second  example, 
which  accentuates  the  meaning  of  the  first,  has  been  suggested  by 
the  explanation  given.  The  fact  that  the  little  girl  brought  up  the 
story  of  little  Snow- White,  as  another  example  of  the  senseless- 
ness of  fairy-tales,  proves  that  she  did  not  understand  her  identi- 
fication with  little  Snow- White  and  the  Sleeping  Beauty.  There- 
fore we  may  expect  that  little  Snow-White  arose  from  the  same 
unconscious  sources  as  the  Sleeping  Beauty,  that  is,  a  complex 
consisting  of  the  expectation  of  coming  events,  which  are 
altogether  comparable  with  the  deliverance  of  the  earth  from  the 
prison  of  winter  and  its  fertilization  through  the  sunbeams  of 
spring. 

As  may,  perhaps,  be  known,  the  symbol  of  the  bull  has  been 
given  from  time  immemorial  to  the  fertile  spring  sun,  as  the  bull 
embodies  the  mightiest  procreative  power.  Although  without 
further  consideration,  it  is  not  easy  to  find  any  relation  between 
the  insight  indirectly  gained  and  the  dream,  we  will  hold  to  what 
we  have  found  and  proceed  with  the  dream.  The  next  part  de- 
scribed by  the  little  girl  is  receiving  the  doll  in  her  apron.  The 
first  association  given  tells  us  that  her  attitude  and  the  whole 
situation  in  the  dream  is  like  a  picture  very  well  known  to  her, 
representing  a  stork  flying  above  a  village;  children  are  in  the 
street,  holding  their  aprons,  looking  up  and  shouting  to  him ;  the 
stork  must  bring  them  a  little  baby.  The  little  patient  adds  the 
observation  that  several  times  she  wished  to  have  a  little  brother 
or  sister  herself.  This  material,  given  spontaneously  by  the  child, 
stands  in  a  clear  and  valuable  relationship  to  the  motive  of  the 
myths.  We  notice  here  that  the  dream  is  indeed  concerned  with 
the  problem  of  the  awakening  instinct  of  generation.  Nothing  of 
this  has  been  said  to  the  little  girl.  After  a  little  pause,  she 
brings,  abruptly,  this  association :  "  Once,  when  I  was  five  years 
old,  I  thought  I  was  in  the  street  and  that  a  bicyclist  passed  over 
my  stomach."  This  highly  improbable  story  proved  to  be,  as  it 
might  be  expected,  a  phantasy,  which  had  become  a  paramnesia. 
Nothing  of  this  kind  had  ever  happened,  but  we  came  to  know 
that  at  school  the  little  girls  lay  cross-wise  over  each  other's 
bodies,  and  trampled  with  their  legs. 

Whoever  has  read  the  analyses  of  children  published  by 
Freud  and  myself  will  observe  the  same  "  leit-motif  "  of  tramp- 


GENERAL   REMARKS   ON    PSYCHOANALYSIS  127 

ling ;  to  this  must  be  attributed  a  sexual  undercurrent.  This  con- 
ception demonstrated  in  our  former  work  agrees  with  the  next 
association  of  our  little  patient :  "  I  should  prefer  a  real  child  to 
a  doll." 

This  most  remarkable  material  brought  by  the  child  in  con- 
nection with  the  phantasy  of  the  stork,  refers  to  typical  childish 
attempts  at  the  sexual  theory,  and  betrays  where  we  have  to  look 
for  the  actual  phantasies  of  the  child. 

It  is  of  interest  to  know,  that  this  "  motive  of  trampling  "  can 
be  illustrated  through  mythology.  I  have  brought  together  the 
proofs  in  my  work  on  the  libido  theory.  The  utilization  of  these 
early  infantile  phantasies  in  the  dream,  the  existence  of  the 
paramnesia  of  the  bicyclist,  and  the  expectation  expressed  by  the 
motive  of  the  Sleeping  Beauty  show  that  the  interests  of  the 
child  dwell  chiefly  on  certain  problems  which  must  be  solved. 
Probably  the  fact  that  the  libido  has  been  attracted  by  the  prob- 
lem of  generation  has  been  the  reason  of  her  lack  of  attention  at 
school,  through  which  she  fell  behind.  This  problem  is  very 
often  seen  in  girls  between  the  ages  of  twelve  and  thirteen.  I 
could  demonstrate  this  to  you  by  some  special  cases  published 
under  the  title  of  "  Beitrag  zur  Psychologic  des  Geruchtes  "  in  the 
Zentralblatt  fur  Psychoanalyse.  The  frequent  occurrence  of  the 
problem  at  this  age  is  the  cause  of  the  indecent  talk  among  all 
sorts  of  children  and  the  attempts  at  mutual  enlightenment,  which 
are  naturally  far  from  beautiful,  and  which  so  very  often  spoil 
the  child's  imagination.  Not  the  most  careful  protection  can 
prevent  children  from  some  day  discovering  the  great  secret,  and 
then  probably  in  the  dirtiest  way.  Therefore  it  would  be  much 
better  if  children  could  learn  about  certain  important  secrets  of 
life  in  a  clean  way  and  at  suitable  times,  so  that  they  would  not 
need  to  be  enlightened  by  their  playmates,  too  often  in  very 
ugly  ways. 

In  the  eighth  interview  the  little  girl  began  by  remarking  that 
she  had  understood  perfectly  why  it  was  still  impossible  for  her  to 
have  a  child  and  therefore  she  had  renounced  all  idea  of  it.  But 
she  does  not  make  a  good  impression  this  time.  We  get  to  know 
that  she  has  told  her  teacher  a  falsehood.  She  had  been  late  to 
school,  and  told  her  teacher  that  she  was  late  because  she  was 
obliged  to  accompany  her  father.  But  in  reality,  she  had  been 


128  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

lazy,  got  up  too  late  and  was  thus  late  for  school.  She  told  a  lie, 
and  was  afraid  of  losing  the  teacher's  favor  by  telling  the  truth. 
This  sudden  moral  defect  in  our  little  patient  requires  an  explana- 
tion. According  to  the  fundamentals  of  psychoanalysis,  this 
sudden  and  striking  weakness  can  only  follow  from  the  patient's 
not  drawing  the  logical  consequences  from  the  analysis  but  rather 
looking  for  other  easier  possibilities. 

In  other  words,  we  have  to  do  here  with  a  case  in  which  the 
analysis  brought  the  libido  apparently  to  the  surface,  so  that  an 
improvement  of  the  personality  could  have  occurred.  But  for 
some  reason  or  other,  the  adaptation  was  not  made,  and  the 
libido  returned  to  its  former  regressive  paths. 

The  ninth  interview  proved  that  this  was  indeed  the  case.  Our 
patient  withheld  an  important  piece  of  evidence  in  her  ideas  of 
sexuality,  and  one  which  contradicted  the  psychoanalytic  explana- 
tion of  sexual  maturity.  She  suppressed  the  rumor  current  in 
the  school  that  a  girl  of  eleven  had  a  baby  with  a  boy  of  the  same 
age.  This  rumor  was  proved  to  be  based  on  no  facts,  but  was  a 
phantasy,  fulfiling  the  secret  wishes  of  this  age.  Rumors  appear 
often  to  originate  in  this  kind  of  way,  as  I  tried  to  show  in  the 
above-mentioned  demonstration  of  such  a  case.  They  serve  to 
give  vent  to  the  unconscious  phantasies,  and  in  fulfiling  this 
function  correspond  to  dreams  as  well  as  to  myths.  This  rumor 
keeps  another  way  open :  she  need  not  wait  so  long,  it  is  possible 
to  have  a  child  even  at  eleven.  The  contradiction  between  the 
accepted  rumor  and  the  analytic  explanation  creates  resistances 
towards  the  analysis,  so  that  it  is  forthwith  depreciated.  All  the 
other  statements  and  information  fall  to  the  ground  at  the  same 
time ;  for  the  time  being,  doubt  and  a  feeling  of  uncertainty  have 
taken  their  place.  The  libido  has  again  taken  possession  of  its 
former  ways,  it  has  made  a  regression.  This  is  the  moment  of 
the  replapse. 

The  tenth  sitting  added  important  details  to  the  story  of  her 
sexual  problem.  First  came  a  remarkable  fragment  of  a  dream : 
"/  am  with  other  children  in  an  open  field  in  the  wood,  sur- 
rounded by  beautiful  pine  trees.  It  begins  to  rain,  to  lighten 
and  to  thunder.  It  is  growing  dark.  Suddenly  I  see  a  stork  in 
the  air." 

Before  I  enter  into  an  analysis  of  this  dream,  I  should  like  to 


GENERAL   REMARKS   ON    PSYCHOANALYSIS  129 

point  out  its  beautiful  parallel  with  certain  mythological  presenta- 
tions. This  astonishing  coincidence  of  thunderstorm  and  stork 
has,  of  course,  to  those  acquainted  with  the  works  of  Adalbert 
Kuhn  and  Steinthal  nothing  remarkable.  The  thunderstorm  has 
had,  from  ancient  times,  the  meaning  of  the  fertilizing  of  the 
earth,  the  cohabitation  of  the  father  Heaven  and  the  mother 
Earth,  to  which  Abraham13  has  recently  again  called  attention,  in 
which  the  lightning  takes  the  place  of  the  winged  phallus.  The 
stork  is  just  the  same  thing,  a  winged  phallus,  the  psychosexual 
meaning  of  which  is  known  to  every  child.  But  the  psychosexual 
meaning  of  the  thunderstorm  is  not  known  to  everyone.  In  view 
of  the  psychological  situation  just  described,  we  must  attribute  to 
the  stork  a  psychosexual  meaning.  That  the  thunderstorm  is  con- 
nected with  the  stork  and  has  also  a  psychosexual  meaning,  seems 
at  first  scarcely  acceptable.  But  when  we  remember  that  psycho- 
analytic observation  has  shown  an  enormous  number  of  mytho- 
logical associations  with  the  unconscious  mental  images,  we  may 
suppose  that  some  psychosexual  meaning  is  also  present  in  this 
case.  We  know  from  other  experiences  that  those  unconscious 
strata  which,  in  former  times,  produced  mythological  forms,  are 
still  in  action  among  modern  people  and  are  still  incessantly 
productive.  But  this  production  is  limited  to  the  realm  of 
dreams  and  the  symptomatology  of  the  neuroses  and  the  psy- 
choses, for  the  correction,  through  reality,  is  so  much  increased 
in  the  modern  mind  that  it  prevents  their  projection  into  reality. 

We  will  return  to  the  dream  analysis.  The  associations  which 
lead  us  to  the  heart  of  this  image  begin  with  the  idea  of  rain 
during  the  thunderstorm.  Her  actual  words  were :  "  I  think  of 
water.  My  uncle  was  drowned  in  water — it  must  be  dreadful  to 
be  kept  under  water,  so  in  the  dark.  But  the  child  must  be  also 
drowned  in  the  water.  Does  it  drink  the  water  that  is  in  the 
stomach?  It  is  very  strange,  when  I  was  ill  Mamma  sent  my 
water  to  the  doctor.  I  thought  perhaps  he  would  mix  something 
with  it,  perhaps  some  syrup,  out  of  which  children  grow.  I  think 
one  has  to  drink  it." 

With  unquestionable  clearness  we  see  from  this  set  of  associa- 
tions that  even  the  child  associates  psychosexual,  and  even  typical 
ideas  of  fructification  with  the  rain  during  the  thunderstorm. 

13  "  Dreams  and  Myths,"  No.  15  of  the  Monograph  Series. 


THE  THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

Here  again,  we  see  that  marvellous  parallelism  between 
mythology  and  the  individual  phantasies  of  our  own  day.  This 
series  of  associations  contains  such  an  abundance  of  symbolic 
relationships,  that  we  could  easily  write  a  whole  dissertation  about 
it.  The  child  herself  splendidly  interpreted  the  symbolism  of 
drowning  as  a  pregnancy-phantasy,  an  explanation  given  long  ago 
in  psychoanalytic  literature. 

Eleventh  interview.  The  next  sitting  was  occupied  with  the 
spontaneous  infantile  theories  about  fructification  and  child-birth. 
The  child  thought  that  the  urine  of  the  man  went  into  the  body 
of  the  woman,  and  from  this  the  embryo  would  grow.  Hence  the 
child  was  in  the  water  from  the  beginning,  that  is  to  say,  in  urine. 
Another  version  was,  the  urine  was  drunk  in  the  doctor's  syrup, 
so  that  the  child  would  grow  in  the  head.  The  head  had  then  to 
be  split  open,  to  help  the  growth  of  the  child,  and  one  wore  hats 
to  cover  this  up.  She  illustrated  this  by  a  little  drawing,  repre- 
senting a  child-birth  through  the  head.  The  child  again  had  still 
a  smaller  child  on  the  head,  and  so  on.  This  is  an  archaic  idea 
and  highly  mythological.  I  would  remind  you  of  the  birth  of 
Pallas,  who  came  out  of  the  father's  head. 

We  find  striking  mythological  proofs  of  the  fertilizing  sig- 
nificance of  the  urine  in  the  songs  of  Rudra  in  the  Rigveda. 
Here  should  be  mentioned  something  the  mother  added,  that 
once  the  little  girl,  before  analysis,  suggested  she  saw  a  puppet 
on  the  head  of  her  little  brother,  a  phantasy  with  which  the  origin 
of  this  theory  of  child-birth  might  be  connected.  The  little  illus- 
tration made  by  the  patient  has  remarkable  affinity  with  certain 
pictures  found  among  the  Bataks  of  Dutch  India.  They  are  the 
so-called  magic  wands  or  ancestral  statues,  on  which  the  members 
of  families  are  represented,  one  standing  on  the  top  of  the  other. 
The  explanation  of  these  wands,  given  by  the  Bataks  themselves, 
and  regarded  as  nonsense,  has  a  marvellous  analogy  with  the 
infantile  mental  attitude.  Schultz,  who  wrote  about  these  wands, 
says:  "The  assertion,  that  these  figures  represent  the  members 
of  a  family  who  have  committed  incest,  were  bitten  by  a  snake, 
entwined  with  another,  and  met  a  common  death  in  their  criminal 
embrace,  is  widely  disseminated  and  obviously  due  to  the  position 
of  the  figures." 

The  explanation  has  a  parallel  in  our  presuppositions  as  to  our 


GENERAL   REMARKS   ON    PSYCHOANALYSIS  13! 

little  patient.  We  saw  from  the  first  dream  that  her  sexual  phan- 
tasy centers  round  the  father ;  the  psychological  condition  is  here 
the  same  as  with  the  Bataks,  being  found  in  the  idea  of  incestuous 
relationship. 

Still  a  third  version  is  the  growth  of  the  child  in  the  intestinal 
canal.  The  child  tried  several  times  to  provoke  nausea  and 
vomiting,  in  accordance  with  her  phantasy  that  the  child  is  born 
through  vomiting.  In  the  closet  she  had  arranged  also  pressure- 
exercises,  in  order  to  press  out  the  child.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, we  cannot  be  astonished  that  the  first  and  principal  symp- 
toms of  the  manifest  neurosis  were  nausea-symptoms. 

We  have  come  so  far  with  our  analysis  that  we  are  now  able 
to  throw  a  glance  over  the  case  as  a  whole. 

We  found,  behind  the  neurotic  symptoms,  complicated  emo- 
tional processes,  which  were  undoubtedly  connected  with  the 
symptoms.  If  it  may  be  allowed  to  draw  some  general  conclu- 
sions from  this  limited  material,  we  could  construct  the  course 
of  the  neurosis  in  the  following  way. 

At  the  gradual  approach  of  puberty,  the  libido  of  the  child 
assumed  rather  an  emotional  than  a  practical  attitude  towards 
reality.  She  began  to  be  very  much  taken  with  her  teacher,  but 
the  sentimental  self-indulgence,  evinced  in  her  riotous  phantasies, 
played  a  greater  part  than  the  thought  of  the  increased  endeavors 
which  such  love  ought  really  to  have  demanded  of  her.  For  this 
reason,  her  attention  and  her  work  left  much  to  be  desired.  The 
former  pleasant  relationship  with  her  favorite  teacher  was 
troubled.  The  teacher  was  annoyed,  and  the  little  girl,  who  had 
been  made  somewhat  conceited  by  her  home-conditions,  was 
resentful,  instead  of  trying  to  improve  in  her  work.  In  conse- 
quence her  libido  withdrew  from  her  teacher,  as  well  as  from  her 
work,  and  fell  into  the  characteristic  forced  dependence  on  the 
little  boy,  who  on  his  side  made  the  most  of  the  situation.  Then 
the  resistances  against  school  seized  the  first  opportunity,  which 
was  suggested  by  the  case  of  the  little  girl  who  had  to  be  sent 
home  on  account  of  sickness.  Our  little  patient  followed  this 
child's  example.  Once  away  from  school,  the  way  was  open  to 
her  phantasies.  By  the  regression  of  the  libido,  these  symptom- 
making  phantasies  became  awakened  to  a  real  activity,  and  were 
given  an  importance  they  had  never  had  before,  for  they  had 


132  THE   THEORY   OF   PSYCHOANALYSIS 

never  previously  played  such  an  important  part.  Now  they 
become  apparently  of  much  importance  and  seemed  to  be  the  very 
reason  why  the  libido  regressed  to  them.  It  might  be  said  that 
the  child,  in  consequence  of  its  essentially  phantasy-building 
nature,  saw  her  father  too  much  in  her  teacher,  and  thus  devel- 
oped incestuous  resistances  towards  the  latter.  As  I  have  already 
stated,  I  hold  that  it  is  simpler  and  more  probable  to  accept  the 
view  that,  during  a  certain  period,  it  was  convenient  for  her  to 
see  the  teacher  as  the  father.  As  she  preferred  to  follow  the 
hidden  presentiments  of  puberty  rather  than  her  duties  towards 
the  school  and  her  teacher,  she  allowed  her  libido  to  fall  on  the 
little  boy,  from  whom,  as  we  saw,  she  awaited  some  mysterious 
advantages.  Even  if  analysis  had  demonstrated  it  as  a  fact  that 
she  had  had  incestuous  resistances  against  her  teacher  on  account 
of  the  transference  of  the  father-image,  those  resistances  would 
only  have  been  secondary  phantasies,  that  had  become  inflated. 
At  any  rate,  indolence  would  still  have  been  the  primum  movens. 
In  the  analysis  she  learned  about  the  two  ways  of  life,  the  way 
of  phantasy,  of  regression,  and  the  way  of  reality,  wherein  lay  her 
present  child's  duties.  In  her  the  two  were  dissociated,  and 
consequently  she  was  at  strife  with  herself.  As  the  analysis  was 
adapted  to  the  regressive  tendency  of  the  libido,  the  existence  of 
an  extreme  sexual  curiosity,  connected  with  certain  very  definite 
problems,  was  discovered.  The  libido,  imprisoned  in  this  phan- 
tastical  labyrinth,  was  brought  back  into  useful  application  by 
means  of  the  psychological  explanation  of  the  incorrect  infantile 
phantasies.  The  child  thus  got  an  insight  into  her  own  attitude 
towards  reality  with  all  its  possibilities.  The  result  was  that  she 
was  able  to  take  an  objective-critical  attitude  towards  her  imma- 
ture puberty-desires,  and  was  able  to  give  up  these  and  all  other 
impossibilities  in  favor  of  the  use  of  her  libido  in  possible  direc- 
tions, in  her  work  and  in  obtaining  the  good-will  of  her  teacher, 
In  this  case,  analysis  brought  great  peace  of  mind,  as  well  as  a 
pronounced  intellectual  improvement.  After  a  short  time  her 
teacher  himself  stated  that  the  little  girl  was  one  of  the  best 
pupils  in  her  class. 

I  hope  that  by  the  exposition  of  this  brief  instance  of  the 
course  of  an  analysis,  I  have  succeeded  in  giving  you  an  insight 
not  only  into  the  concrete  procedure  of  treatment,  and  into  the 


GENERAL   REMARKS   ON    PSYCHOANALYSIS  133 

technical  difficulties,  but  no  less  into  the  beauty  of  the  human 
mind  and  its  endless  problems.  I  intentionally  brought  into 
prominence  the  parallelism  with  mythology,  to  indicate  the  uni- 
versally possible  applications  of  psychoanalysis.  At  the  same 
time,  I  should  like  to  refer  to  the  further  importance  of  this  posi- 
tion. We  may  see  in  the  predominance  of  the  mythological  in  the 
mind  of  a  child,  a  distinct  hint  of  the  gradual  development  of  the 
individual  mind  out  of  the  collective  knowledge  or  the  collective 
feeling  of  earliest  childhood,  which  gave  rise  to  the  old  theory  of 
a  condition  of  perfect  knowledge  before  and  after  individual 
existence. 

In  the  same  way  we  might  see,  in  the  marvellous  analogy  be- 
tween the  phantasies  of  dementia  prsecox  and  mythological  sym- 
bolisms, a  reason  for  the  widespread  superstition  that  an  insane 
person  is  possessed  of  a  demon,  and  has  some  divine  knowledge. 

With  these  hints,  I  have  reached  the  present  standpoint  of  in- 
vestigation, and  I  have  at  least  sketched  those  facts  and  working 
hypotheses  which  are  characteristic  for  my  present  and  future 
work. 


INDEX 


Abreagieren,  5 
Actual  conflict,  92,  93 
Actual  present,  81 
Adaptation,  failure  of,  83 
Amnesia,  infantile,  78 
Analysis  of  dreams,  60,  109 
Analysis  of  transference,  105 
Association-experiment,  66 

Breuer,  5 

Cathartic  method,  6 

Change  in  the  theory  of  psycho- 
analysis, 5 

Charcot,  5 

Child,  neurosis  in,  113 

Childhood,  sexual  trauma  in,  10 

Complex,  Electra,  69 

Complex,  Oedipus,  67 

Complex,  incest,  70 

Complex  of  the  parents,  50 

Conception  of  libido,  27 

Conception  of  sensitiveness,  89 

Conception  of  sexuality,  19 

Conception  of  transference,  102 

Confession  and  psychoanalysis,  103 

Conflict,  actual,  92,  93 

Content  of  the  unconscious,  67 

Criticism,  I 

Criticized,  infantile  sexual  etiology, 
46 

Dementia  praecox,  in 
Dementia  praecox,  libido  in,  35 
Dream  analysis,  60,  109 
Dream,  the,  60 

Dreams,  teleological  meaning  of, 
109 

Early  hypothesis,  4 
Electra-complex,  69 


Energic  theory  of  libido,  28 
Environment  and  predisposition,  9 
Etiology  of  the  neuroses,  72,  80 

Failure  of  adaptation,  83 
Finger,  sucking  of,  22 
Freud,  5 

Genetic  conception  of  libido,  38 
Hypothesis,  early,  4 

Incest-complex,  70 

Infancy,  the  polymorphic  sexuality 

of,  24 

Infantile  amnesia,  78 
Infantile  mental  attitude,  53 
Infantile  perversity,  43 
Infantile  reaction,  84 
Infantile  sexuality,  17 
Infantile  sexual  etiology  criticized, 

46 

Infantile  sexual  phantasy,  15 
Introversion,  49 

Latent  sexual  period,  79 
Libido,  26,  27 

Libido  in  dementia  praecox,  35 
Libido,  energic  theory  of,  28 
Libido,  genetic  conception  of,  38 
Libido,  regression  of,  76 
Libido,  the  sexual  definition,  34 
Life,  three  phases  of,  33 
Little  Red-Ridinghood,  119 

Masturbation,  22 
Method,  cathartic,  6 

Naughtiness,  121 
Neurosis  in  a  child,  113 


134 


INDEX 


135 


Neuroses,  etiology  of,  72,  80 
Nucleus-complex,  50 

Objections  to  the  sexual  hypothesis, 

18 
Oedipus-complex,  67 

Perversity,  infantile,  43 
Phantasy  criticized,  94 
Phantasy,  infantile  sexual,  17 
Phantasy,  unconscious,  29,  53 
Polymorphic  perverse  sexuality  of 

infancy,  24 
Pragmatic  rule,  2 
Predisposition  and  environment,  9 
Predisposition  for  the  trauma,  12 
Present,  actual,  81 
Problem  of  self-analysis,  108 
Psychoanalysis  and  confession,  103 
Psychoanalysis,  remarks  on,  in 
Psychoanalysis,     therapeutic     prin- 
ciples of,  96 

Psychopathology  of   everyday  life, 
65 

Regression  of  the  libido,  76 
Regression  and  sensitiveness,  90 
Remarks  on  psychoanalysis,  in 
Repression,  8 
Robert  Mayer,  28 
Romulus  and  Remus,  120 

Schopenhauer's  will,  39 
Self-analysis,  problem  of,  108 
Sensitiveness,  conception  of,  89 
Sensitiveness  and  regression,  90 
Sexual  definition  of  libido,  34 
Sexual  element  in  the  trauma,  14 


Sexual  period,  latent,  79 

Sexual  hypothesis,  objections  to,  18 

Sexual  trauma  in  childhood,  10 

Sexuality,  the  conception  of,  19 

Sexuality,  infantile,  17 

Sexuality  of  the  suckling,  21 

Sexual  terminology,  30 

Sleeping  Beauty,  124 

Snow-White,  125 

Spring-Sun,  124 

Stork,  129 

Sucking  the  finger,  22 

Suckling,  sexuality  of,  21 

Symbolism,  112 

Teleological  meaning  of  dreams,  109 

Terminology,  sexual,  30 

The  dream,  60 

Theory,  change  in,  5 

Theory  criticized,  traumatic,  7 

Theory,  traumatic,  5,  48 

Therapeutic  principles  of  psycho- 
analysis, 96 

Three  contributions  to  the  sexual 
theory,  17 

Three  phases  of  life,  33 

Thunderstorm,  129 

Transference,  analysis  of,  105 

Transference,  conception  of,  102 

Trauma,  predisposition  for,  12 

Trauma,  sexual  element  in,  14 

Traumatic  theory,  5,  48 

Traumatic  theory  criticized,  7 

Unconscious,  55 
Unconscious,  content  of,  67 
Unconscious  phantasy,  29,  53 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  THE 


Journal  of  IRervous  anb  flDental  Disease 

Company 


Journal  of  Nervous  and  Mental  Disease 

Edited  by  DR.  W.  G.  SPILLER,  Managing  Editor,  DR.  SMITH  ELY  JELLIFFE 


This  monthly  journal  was  established  in  1874,  an^  has 
from  that  time  on  been  the  chief  representative  of  the  field  of 
American  neurology  and  psychiatry.  It  has  presented  the  chief 
work  of  American  investigators,  and  moreover  presents  monthly 
a  concise  summary  of  the  world's  literature  of  nervous  and 
mental  diseases.  Price,  $5.00  per  volume. 

Nervous  and  Mental  Disease  Monograph  Series 

Edited  by  DRS.  SMITH  ELY  JELLIFFE  and  WM.  A.  WHITE 

This  series,  of  which  nineteen  numbers  have  appeared, 
was  designed  to  present  to  English  speaking  neurologists  and 
psychiatrists,  the  leading,  moving  advances  in  their  respective 
specialties.  See  inside  front  cover  for  a  list  of  the  numbers 
published. 

Psychoanalytic  Review 

Edited  by  DRS.  WM.  A.  WHITE  and  SMITH  ELY  JELLIFFE 

A  quarterly  journal  devoted  to  the  understanding  of  human 
conduct,  with  special  reference  to  the  prob'ems  of  psychopath- 
ology.  Human  motives,  especially  in  their  unconscious  mani- 
festations, will  receive  special  attention  as  they  appear  in  the 
normal  as  well  as  abnormal  fields.  Price,  $5.00  par  volume. 


Address  All  Orders  to  JOURNAL  OF  NERVOUS  AND  MENTAL  DISEASE, 
64  West  Fifty-Sixth  Street,  New  York 


NERVOUS  AND  MENTAL  DISEASE 
MONOGRAPH  SERIES 

Edited  by 
Drs.  SMITH  ELY  JELLIFFE  and  WM.  A.  WHITE 

Numbers  Issued 

1.  Outlines  of  Psychiatry.    (4th  Edition)     $3.00. 

By  Dr.  William  A.  Whit*. 

2.  Studies  in  Paranoia. 

By  Drs.  N.  Gierlich  and  M.  Friedman. 

3 .  The  Psychology  of  Deouatia  Praecox.    ( Out  of  Print. ) 

By  Dr.  C.  G  Jung. 

4.  Selected  Papers  on  Hysteria  and  other  Psychoneuroses . 

(ad  Edition.)    $2.50.    By  Prof.  Sigmund  Freud. 

5.  TheWassermannSerumDiagnosis  inPsycbiatry.  $2.00. 

By  Dr.  Felix  Plaut. 

6.  Epidemic  Poliomyelitis.  New  York,  1907.  (OutofPrint.) 

7.  Three  Contributions  to  Sexual  Theory.    $2.00. 

By  Prof.  Sigmund  Preud. 

8.  Mental  Mechanisms.    $2.00.    By  Dr.  Wm.  A.  Whit*. 

9.  Studies  in  Psychiatry.    $2.00. 

New  York  Psychiatrical  Society. 

10.  Handbook  of  Mental  Examination  Methods.    $2.00. 

By  Shepherd  Ivory  Franz. 

11.  The  Theory  of  Schizophrenic  Negativism.    $0.60. 

By  Professor  E.  Bleuler 

12.  Cerebellar  Functions.    $3.00. 

By  Dr.  Andre-Thomas. 

13.  History  of  Prison  Psychoses.    $1.25. 

By  Drs.  P.  Nitsche  and  K.  Wilmanni. 

14.  General  Paresis.    $3.00.  By  Prof.  E.  Kraepelio 

15.  Dreams  and  Myths.    $1.00.       By  Dr.  Karl  Abraham. 

16.  Poliomyelitis.    $3.00.  Dr.  I.  Wickmann. 

17.  Freud's  Theories  of  the  Neuroses.    $2,00. 

Dr.  E.  Hitschmann. 
i?.  The  Myth  of  the  Birth  of  the  Hero.    $1.00. 

Dr.  Otto  Rank. 

19.  The  Theory  of  Psychoanalysis.    $1.50. 

Dr.  C.  G.  Jung. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


OM     LJ3, 
OCT24REC'|) 


IB. 


•<t> 
*  LX 

BIOMED  LIB. 

OBBDEC   476 

DEC  28  1976 

CHARGE 


'48793 


Form  L9-Series  4939 


\\e 


3  1158  00035414 


*••  J- 


